


Sixth Year

by greystark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greystark/pseuds/greystark
Summary: What if the events of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts had played out a little bit differently?Harry is convinced Malfoy is on his way to becoming a Dark Wizard. In order to uncover his plans, Harry starts watching Draco wherever he goes, even into a certain bathroom on the second floor.





	1. The Bathroom on the Second Floor

**Author's Note:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

“He is up to something!” Harry said furiously, banging his fist hard against the library table.

Hermione winced. “Shh!” she hushed him, looking around to see if Madam Pince was heading their way.

Harry ignored her and continued in an angry whisper. “I know he’s the one who gave that necklace to Katie Bell! If not in person, he made someone do if for him”, he hurriedly added as Hermione looked like she was about to interrupt him again.

She shot a glance at Ron, who smiled apologetically at Harry, as if to say he wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed with Hermione on this.

“Malfoy is doing something, I just know it”, Harry mumbled and crossed his arms over his chest, but he didn’t press the matter further.

Instead, he pretended to immerse himself in Snape’s latest defense against the dark arts assignment. When he thought Ron and Hermione weren’t looking he slipped out the Marauder’s map and scanned the corridors for Malfoy – but he was nowhere to be found.

It had become a habit for Harry to check the map whenever he had the chance. Before breakfast, between classes, before and after dinner, before bed. At time’s he’d even wake up during the night and check if Draco was still in the Slytherin dungeon. Despite his almost obsessive behavior, Harry never caught Draco being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. At night he was in bed, during the day he was in class or moving through the corridors, whenever he didn’t go and completely disappear, of course. Harry couldn’t understand how Draco snuck out of the castle. All the secret passages on the map were being watched, and besides he’d never seen Draco anywhere near them. The more Harry watched the map, the more convinced he became Draco was planning something terrible, with all the effort he put in not to get caught.

 

It was during one of their free periods Harry saw something that caught his attention. He was sitting with Ron in the Gryffindor common room, pretending to go over his transfiguration notes, when he spotted Draco’s small dot heading into a bathroom on the second floor, just above the great hall. If it had been any other bathroom, Harry wouldn’t have thought much of it. This bathroom, however, he knew was a girl’s bathroom. Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

“The Chamber of Secrets!” Harry exclaimed.

Ron, who’d been snoring with his head in his potions book, looked up. “What?” He grunted in confusion.

“Eh, nothing. Just remembered I have to go to the library and, err, check something, for, ehm, some extra work I have to do to make up for the P I got on Snape’s latest homework”, he lied as he stood up.

“Oh”, Ron said, looking confused, but Harry knew if he stopped to explain it all, Ron would object and Draco would be gone again.

“Be right back, mate”, Harry called as he hurried off, shoving the map into his pocket.

As soon as he was out in the corridor, Harry took off running. How could he have been so stupid? It made perfect sense – The Chamber of Secrets wouldn’t be on the map, and if Draco was a Death Eater now, Lord Voldemort could’ve taught him how to open it. What exactly he was doing down there, Harry wasn’t sure, but perhaps he was after basilisk venom to try and poison whoever had been the intended recipient of that cursed necklace. Surely that was it, Harry thought as he stumbled down the last flight of stairs, took a turn and burst through the bathroom door with a stitch burning in his left side.

At first, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Draco was standing hunched over one of the sinks, hands clasped around the edges of the chipped white marble. Harry could see Draco’s face through the cracked mirror. It was slightly distorted, but the red, swollen eyes and wet cheeks were visible through Draco’s shocked expression. He had undoubtedly been crying. Harry slowed down, his wand in his hand but his arm lowered, staring in shock at the blonde boy. The sobs that had been shaking his body subsided, and Draco’s expression quickly turned into one of fury. With clenched teeth he gripped the wand lying on the edge of the sink and spun around.

“Expelliarmus!” they cried at the same time.

The spells passed each other midair, only inches apart, and both wands went flying out of their owner’s hands. Harry’s went up into the air and landed behind him, while Draco’s flew to the side and rolled underneath the stalls. Harry dove for his wand, and for a moment he thought Draco was doing the same thing, before he realized Draco was trying to tackle him.

It was too late to divert – Draco’s shoulder slammed into Harry’s chest and they both went tumbling to the ground as Harry’s wand was kicked further out of reach. The air was knocked out of Harry’s lungs as he hit the floor hard. Draco was sprawled on top of him, pinning his arms and legs to the floor as Harry gasped for breath and tried to shake him off. Harry remembered earlier in the year when Draco had stomped on his face and broken his nose and winced. He expected Draco to hit him, but the blow didn’t come. Harry opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the other boy, at his tear stained cheeks and still wet eyes. They looked at each other for what felt like forever and Harry forgot he should be trying to break free. Then, Draco grabbed onto Harry’s face and before he knew what was happening he felt Draco’s lips press against his own.

At first the kiss was aggressive, Draco’s lips hard and tense, as if it was meant to be a blow to the face – as if it was meant to hurt. But then Draco’s lips relaxed and became soft against Harry’s as salty tears mixed with saliva. For a moment, Harry lay completely still. His mind couldn’t process what was happening. He was drawing a blank. As Draco began to pull away, Harry’s body finally kicked into motion. He reached up and grabbed onto Draco’s collar to pull him down and kiss him back. He couldn’t think, only do, only follow his impulse. It was purely instinct, he told himself afterwards. He felt like he had so many times before when he’d been in mortal danger, as if thinking would only impede him, like he instinctively knew what to do and there was no time to stop and consider his options. So, he parted his lips slightly wider and felt Draco’s tongue brush against them. He released Draco’s collar and placed one hand on the small of Draco’s back and the other grasped his blonde hair. When Draco’s hips pushed down slightly, Harry bucked his upward, which earned him a slight gasp between the kisses.

Harry didn’t know exactly how long it had been before Draco pulled away. Harry sat up and stared down at his knees, pretending not to notice that Draco was wiping his eyes with his robe sleeve. Harry couldn’t help but think that he’d only ever kissed two people, and they had both been crying meanwhile. Then, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he looked up.

“Where’s Moaning Myrtle?”

This was exactly the sort of thing she would love to witness, and then spread over the entire school, to be sure. He was glad to occupy his suddenly functioning brain with this issue, rather than that of what just had happened.

“What?” Draco startled. “Oh, I flushed her into the lake, before, eh…” He broke off.

“Oh, right, good.” Harry scratched the back of his head.

He wasn’t sure what would be an appropriate thing to say, so he went and picked up his wand. When he turned back to Draco, he found the boy staring at him.

“I’m not going to hex you, if that’s what you’re thinking”, Harry said dryly and color crept up Draco’s pale face.

It was the first time Harry saw him up close in quite a while – before it had felt like Draco was lurking around every corner, but now that Harry had been searching for him he’d suddenly become more elusive than a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. He noticed that Draco’s face looked thinner, his cheeks sunken in and that he had bags under his eyes. Draco saw him looking and Harry’s eyes quickly darted away.

“Well, I guess, ehm, I’ll see you later, in, eh, potions”, Harry finally said after several moments of awkward silence, hoping with all his heart that Draco wouldn’t bother to attend potions that afternoon.

Then, after straightening his tie and running a hand through his hair, he slipped out into the corridor.

 

Harry spent the next couple of weeks avoiding even thinking about Draco Malfoy or the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. He even refrained from checking the Marauder’s map, for the most part, although he couldn’t keep himself from pulling it out at times, just out of curiosity. Draco seemed to have stopped disappearing; perhaps Harry’s charging in on him had made him suspect he was being watched, because now he could always be seen in class, or in the dungeons, or in the great hall. Harry tried to brush it off and act like nothing had happened, but he’d catch Hermione and Ron sneaking glances at him or standing huddled together whispering about something. When he approached them, they would fall silent. He hadn’t mentioned Draco since that day, which they apparently found very suspicious. Ron had of course told Hermione about Harry taking off to do extra homework, which in turn had led to Harry actually having to do the assignment he’d made up. It was a punishment Harry would happily bear, if it meant Ron and Hermione never found out what really had happened.

However hard he tried, Harry couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. He caught himself thinking about Draco, what he was doing, where he was going… Why he had done what he did, what it meant. He had to force himself to focus on whatever he was doing. At one point, he even earned himself a lecture from McGonagall when he soaked Hermione with a jet of water when he had been trying to conjure a flock of birds.

Three weeks after what Harry now referred to as _‘The bathroom incident’_ , he’d gone back to checking the Marauder’s map almost as diligently as he had before. Draco only seemed to go to the same two places now: the Slytherin common room and Myrtle’s bathroom. The only thing that kept him from dwelling on this all hours of the day was the staggering amount of work they were assigned each week.

He was busy with homework one Saturday morning when Ron came into the common room with a grin across his face.

“You won’t believe what I just witnessed”, he said and sank down into an armchair next to Harry’s.

“What?” Harry asked, looking up.

“Well, I was on the second floor on my way back from breakfast right, and I heard some shouting, so I went to have a look – I’m a prefect after all – and guess if it’s not Crabbe and Goyle arguing with Malfoy. Malfoy’s hexed Crabbe so his face is looking all gross – well, grosser than usual – so he has these purple boils sprouting all over, and Goyle’s not looking much better. And Malfoy’s hair was bright orange…” Ron trailed off. “Hey, I thought you would appreciate this story just a tad bit more, you know”, he added when he wasn’t met with the burst of laughter he’d been expecting.

Harry tried his best to give Ron an appeasing smirk. “Guess I’ll just have to go see for myself. Bright orange, you said?”

Harry tried to act convincing, but Ron didn’t look convinced. However, Harry could worry about that later and having made up his mind he set out to find Draco Malfoy. 

 

This time, he entered the second story bathroom carefully after making sure no one was around. As he’d expected, Draco was there, his wand pointed at his head as he was muttering something. Draco’s hair was back to blonde, but Harry thought there might still be an orange tint to it. When he entered, Draco looked up, but he didn’t look surprised and he didn’t point his wand at Harry.

“Have you entered The Chamber of Secrets?” Harry blurted out without thinking.

Draco looked startled. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

The surprise in his voice sounded genuine and Harry noted the absence of his otherwise ever-present sneer. Being wrong didn’t exactly please Harry.

“Beats me”, Harry muttered under his breath.

Draco ignored him and said quietly: “I hoped you might come.”

Harry suddenly felt angry, angry at Malfoy, angry at the meekness in his voice, as if they weren’t sworn enemies.

“Oh, yeah? Why is that? Tired of cursing Crabbe and Goyle? Want to fight someone who knows which end to hold a wand?”

“I’ve not tried to curse you, if you haven’t noticed”, Draco replied coldly and put his wand away somewhat theatrically.

“Well, gee, thanks, that surely makes up for your daddy being a Death Eater and all that. I’m sure cursing me could earn him a few Death Eater points back, so you might want to reconsider that one.”

Harry was shaking, his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t remember feeling this angry in a long time.  
Draco’s face had turned red. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about, Potter. Clearly, I was mistaken. See you in potions”, he sneered, sounding like his usual self again and heading for the door.

As he passed, Harry grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you, for once in your pathetic little life, just leave it”, Draco snarled.

“What then? Why would you possibly hope I’d come down here if it wasn’t for some petty revenge scheme?” Harry squeezed Draco’s arm harder.

“You’re the densest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

Before Harry really knew what was happening, Draco had yanked his arm free and grabbed onto Harry’s shoulders, pulling him closer. This time, Harry only needed a moment to understand what was about to happen and he braced himself for it. Yet he met Draco’s lips willingly, kissing him hard, desperately, like this was the only way to get out all the pent-up frustration. Harry intertwined his fingers in Draco’s hair and tried to pull them even closer together, not wanting it to end, not yet. Not that Draco was trying to break free...

Draco slowly backed them up into a stall, locking the door behind them. He pushed Harry down onto to toilet seat and then sat down straddling him and resumed the kiss. Harry slipped his hands underneath Draco’s robes and tugged his shirt loose, so he could run his fingers over the soft skin on Draco’s hips. Draco’s lips strayed from Harry’s mouth and wandered down his neck, making Harry shiver and sigh. They were pressed so close together, Harry could feel Draco’s hard-on press against his stomach, and he felt his own press up against Draco’s ass. As if Draco could read his mind, he suddenly slid back down towards Harry’s knees and let his hands drop to just above Harry’s trousers.

Blushing, he stared down at Harry’s chest rather than look him in the face.

“Is this okay? I mean, do you want me to, ehr”, he broke off.

“Only if you want to”, Harry breathed.

Draco kissed him again and, with some struggling, he unbuttoned Harry’s trousers and slid his hand over the outside of Harry’s boxers. Harry breathed shakily as Draco slowly, slowly, painfully slowly, pulled his boxers down. Without a moment’s hesitation, Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry’s cock and began stroking steadily, wetting his hand with spit and precum. Harry moaned and pressed their lips together again, moving his hips with each stroke. Harry’s hand went for Draco’s trousers, but Draco grabbed his wrist.

“I just want to make you feel good”, Draco whispered.

Harry was content with that, especially since he didn’t know exactly how good he’d be at giving when he was this close to coming. He kissed Draco’s lips, his neck, wherever his mouth connected with skin. He was shaking, he couldn’t bare it much longer.

“Draco”, he moaned. “I’m going to…”

But Draco hushed him, increasing the speed of his strokes, flicking his thumb up over the tip of Harry’s dick.

“Draco”, Harry moaned again. “Draco, I’ll-” He gasped and came over Draco’s hands, onto their clothes.

They sat as they were for a moment, panting slightly, Harry’s face red and gleaming with sweat. Then Draco got up and got his wand out, and with a flick the mess they’d made was gone.

“Uhm, are you sure you don’t-”

“No”, Draco interrupted, blushing – the moment had passed.

After washing up a little, not saying a word to each other, Harry left.

 

After that, they fell into somewhat of a routine. Harry would check the map after dinner and if Draco was in Myrtle’s bathroom and the coast was clear, he’d sneak down there, and they’d repeat what had happened that Saturday morning. At first it was a one-sided affair, with Draco swatting Harry’s hand away while he was getting Harry off, until Harry finally grabbed onto his shoulders and said: “Draco, I want to make you feel good, it’s not a you did me, so I’ll do you type of thing.” At which Draco relented and let Harry slip a hand down his trousers.

Draco’s cock was hard and slick with precum when Harry wrapped his fingers around it for the first time. Draco moaned at the slightest touch, having been deprived from any skin contact at their previous meetings. They stood pressed against the wall of a bathroom stall, Draco’s back to it and Harry in front of him. They stroked each other at the same pace, until Harry jutted his hips forward so their dicks rubbed together. Pushing Draco’s hand away, Harry wrapped his own around both their cocks and began stroking, up and down. Draco moaned loudly, a bit too loud, Harry thought, although they’d used the muffliato charm to ward off eavesdroppers. Draco’s eyes were closed, his head tilted back and his mouth open and Harry wondered why he hadn’t insisted on doing this from the begin.  
“Harry- oh god, I’m going to, uh-”

Harry hadn’t been close to coming, but seeing Draco unravel before him, at his hands, brought him to the edge. With a shutter, Draco moaned and gasped and came over Harry’s hands, Harry following suit just a moment later. Without hesitation, Draco grasped Harry’s neck and kissed him. Harry realized that it was the first time they’d ever kissed _afterwards_ , but he didn’t mention this to Draco later as they were cleaning up.

 

“Where are you always running off to?” Hermione asked suspiciously when Harry returned to the common room late one evening, just minutes before curfew.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and pulled up a chair to the table where Hermione was sitting alone. Ron was currently standing in a corner, tightly intertwined with Lavender Brown.

“Oh, ehm, well…”

“Ron and I have been talking and we know, Harry”, Hermione interrupted, and Harry almost fell off his chair, not entirely because of Hermione’s supposed knowledge of his and Draco’s bathroom activities, but partially because Harry hadn’t heard her utter Ron’s name for weeks, not since Ron and Lavender had taken to walking around the castle mouths connected at all times. But Hermione continued, unbothered. “We know that you’ve been following Malfoy.”

Harry had to hold in a sigh of relief and think fast. “Well, I know he’s up to something, and since the map hasn’t been of much help I just figured this was the only way to find out what he was doing.”

Harry supposed she would believe this, it was close enough to the truth, and what she already thought she knew. Besides, he knew there were few things Hermione appreciated as much as being right.

“And have you found him doing anything he shouldn’t be doing?” She asked sharply.

Harry flushed. “Not yet.”

He saw that triumphant I-was-right smile flash across her face and knew she’d bought it.

“See? You really should just drop it, Harry, you’re falling even more behind than usual”, she said, and seeing the look he was shooting her, added: “And if you’re not going to study then at least decide who you are going to take to Slughorn’s Christmas party, I think those fifth year girls over in the corner there are planning to slip you some love potion. I wouldn’t drink anything that Romilda Vane tries to offer you.”

Harry nodded absent mindedly. “Thanks, Hermione, but I think I’ll call it an early night.”

He stood up and left her staring after him with a concerned look on her face.

Harry wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Ever since he and Draco had started, well whatever it was they had started, Harry had tried his best not to think about what had led up to it happening in the first place. He couldn’t be kissing Draco and think he was a Death Eater at the same time. So, he’d pushed those thoughts away, tried to forget about his suspicion – no, conviction – that Draco was in liege with Voldemort. Now, he cursed himself for letting his guard down, for losing sight of what was important. He pulled the map out and scanned for Draco. He was there, in the Slytherin dungeon with Crabbe and Goyle. Sighing slightly, Harry tucked the map away, determined that at their next meeting, he would confront Malfoy, so they could go back to hating each other at a distance.

 

Over a week went by until he met Malfoy outside of class again. Harry saw the other boy waiting on the map but had decided it was better if he waited a while to appease Hermione. Besides, she hadn’t been wrong when she said he was behind on his homework. Hermione had been right on one other account – Romilda Vane now waited in the common room with a glass of what supposedly was pumpkin juice every night after dinner and had even given Harry a box of chocolate cauldrons that he only accepted out of pity. The longer he put off confronting Malfoy, the more restless he grew. He couldn’t help but feel he was making up excuses to avoid facing the Slytherin boy. So, at last, one evening when Hermione had rushed off to the library to check something and Ron was busy trying to eat Lavender’s face, Harry slipped out of the common room after consulting the Marauder’s map. 

He found Malfoy waiting in the corridor, examining a rather ugly painting of a woman and her rather troll-like toddler.

“Taken up an interest in art, have you?” Harry asked.

Malfoy jerked slightly and turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. “Look who’s bothered to actually show up.”

“What, have you missed me?” Harry said, grinning slightly at the scornful look on Malfoy’s face. “Shall we?” He nodded towards the door.

“Presumptuous as always, Potter”, Malfoy muttered. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, Myrtle’s in quite a mood and if I try and flush her down the lake again she said she’d raise half the school.”

Instead, Malfoy headed the other way and pulled open the door to an old classroom and slipped inside, gesturing for Harry to follow. The classroom was dark, but Draco sent soft lights up towards the ceiling with a flick of his wand. All the desks had been shoved around the room and the furniture wore a coating of dust, uneven in places, a sign that they were not the first ones to hide in there.

“I think this will be alright – Filch lurks around here sometimes – but I heard Peeves was flooding the Ravenclaw tower. That ought to keep him busy for a while.”

“What did you do to get Myrtle all upset?” Harry asked, glancing around.

“Oh, that wasn’t me. She likes me, most of the time. Some girl went in there to tease her or something, she’s not exactly the most level headed being in existence, so it was hard to make out the details.”

Harry could attest to that. “What, she likes you despite you flushing her down the pipes every few nights?”

Some color rose to Draco’s cheeks. “I don’t, I just send her away. Plead with her or send her off to do some menial task I’ll tell her is very important, like watching the owlery or keeping track of who goes into the prefect’s bathroom. She quite likes that one.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. He couldn’t help but remember that time in their fourth year when Myrtle had visited him in the bath.  
“Anyway”, Draco continued. “I’ve made you this.”

Then he pressed a golden galleon into Harry’s palm.

“You’re giving me money? You’ve _made_ me money?” Harry said in disbelief.

Draco sighed and sat down on top of a desk. “How did you pass any of your O.W.L.s if you are this dense? It’s an enchanted galleon of course.”  
“Like the ones Hermione made?”

Draco nodded. “This way I don’t have to spend my evenings sat on a toilet chatting with a weeping ghost, waiting around for you to show up.”

Harry regretfully remembered how Draco had come to possess one of those coins, how he’d caught them and hauled them off to Umbridge. An unwanted flash of memories of all the times Draco had called Hermione a mudblood followed. Then, how Lucius Malfoy had taunted Harry at the Ministry of Magic that spring, how Sirius had… Suddenly rage boiled up inside of Harry. How could he have been so reckless? How could he look past every cruel and petty thing Malfoy had done to him and his friends? And for what, his own pleasure? Harry stepped forward, leaning down over Malfoy, who smirked and stretched out his hands towards Harry, thinking that they’d resume their usual business. He looked surprised but not displeased, as Harry grabbed hold of his robes and pulled him off the desk, so he tumbled backwards onto the floor with Harry on top of him.

“Like it rough, Potter?” Malfoy panted.

Harry only grunted in response. He stared down at Malfoy’s face, still smirking up at him, looking expectant. For a moment Harry thought he would hit the Slytherin. He would’ve very much liked to do so, Malfoy surely deserved it, but it didn’t seem right when Malfoy was looking at him like that. Not when Harry could feel that Malfoy was hard already, just from this act of violence. So, Harry channeled all his rage and kissed Malfoy hard, biting down on his lip so hard Malfoy shuttered with a mixture of pain and pleasure underneath him. Harry pulled at the Malfoy’s hair, bit his ear, his neck, until Draco mumbled:

“You’ll leave marks.”

Then, Harry ripped Malfoy’s shirt open so his chest was exposed, unable to stop himself from thinking about how this was the first time either of them had bothered to undress any further than necessary for a quick jerk off.

He kissed and nibbled his way down towards the trail of hair that disappeared underneath the waistband of Draco’s trousers. Harry undid the buttons swiftly and wriggled them down Draco’s thighs before seeing to his own. Draco’s fingers wrapped around Harry’s dick immediately as Harry stood kneeling over Draco. Harry slid his hand over the length of Draco’s dick, panting slightly, and then down again over Draco’s balls. Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and then opened again as Harry’s hand went further down, his fingers slipping between Draco’s cheeks, pushing lightly against his asshole while his other hand worked on Draco’s dick at a steady pace.

“Harry”, Draco moaned as the tip of a finger pushed against him a bit harder.

“Harry.” Draco’s own rhythm became unsteady as Harry’s finger slipped inside.

“Harry, Harry”, Draco gasped, and then, stopping entirely, Draco grunted: “ _Harry, someone’s coming!”_

Then Harry suddenly heard it too, the familiar dragging footsteps approaching their hiding place. Quickly, Harry let go of Draco and fumbled around his pocket for a moment before pulling out the invisibility cloak and throwing it over them, merely seconds before the door opened. Filch burst into the room with Mrs. Norris at his heels, shouting “Peeves!” as he entered. Harry had to push himself down tightly against Malfoy to make sure they were both entirely covered by the cloak. Despite this, he still risked craning his head around to get a look at what was happening. The caretaker had stopped and looked around in surprise at finding the room magically lit but seemingly empty. Then a grin spread across his face.

“Students out of bed! Students out in the corridors after curfew! Come, come, Mrs. Norris, they can’t have gotten far. Surely Dumbledore will let me cut off a finger or two this time!”

Filch turned around and hurried out of the room as fast as he could manage, but Mrs. Norris stood by the door, her big yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. Harry could’ve sworn she was staring straight at him. Then Filch called for her and she disappeared, the door slamming shut behind her.

Finally, Harry could breathe again. He pulled the cloak off and sat up, feeling relieved but unsatisfied. Draco was sitting up too, doing up his shirt again with hands that trembled slightly.

“How about we call this a night? That was a bit too close for comfort”, Harry mumbled, standing up and buttoning up his pants.

Whatever feeling had taken over him had dissipated when Filch had charged in.

Draco nodded. “Now I’ll have to sneak back to the common room with him lurking around outside”, Draco muttered. “At least you’ve got that cloak.”

Harry hesitated a moment, and then he pulled out the Marauder’s map. He wasn’t sure he truly wanted to show this to Malfoy, but then again, if Malfoy got caught Harry was sure he would be quick to give Harry up if it meant he could save his own fingers.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The map came to life and Harry laid it down on a desk. Draco stared at it over his shoulder.

“Is this how you’ve been finding me? Have you been watching me?” He asked indignantly, eyes narrowed.

“Eh”, Harry mumbled, thinking it best not to reply to that. “Well, Filch is up by Dumbledore’s office, so you should have a clear path down to the dungeons, watch out for Snape though.”

“Our common room is on there too?” Draco exclaimed in disbelief and stared down towards the dots of Slytherin students on the bottom part of the parchment.

Harry simply nodded, thinking it best not to inform Draco that he’d found out the whereabouts of the Slytherin common room not through the map, but through his and Ron’s second year Polyjuice investigation.

Draco, brushing off his robes one last time before deeming himself presentable, stalked towards the door without another word. Before exiting, he turned back to Harry.

“I’m not in the mood for any more snark from you, Potter, but you better keep an eye on that bloody coin if you know what’s best for you.”

With those words he stormed out, probably making a bit too much noise for his own good. Too late, Harry realized he’d forgotten about all the things he’d meant to say to Draco, what he’d come here to do. Everything had happened so fast. Next time, he thought to himself as he slipped on the cloak again and went out the door.


	2. The Art of Speculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone seem to think they know something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

The next time they saw each other was only a couple of days later. Harry felt the coin heat up in his pocket during dinner and when he looked at it the word _“now”_ was scribbled across it in hot, angry letters. Harry didn’t need further encouragement and excused himself as fast as he could and hurried off up the stairs.

Draco was waiting for him by the sinks in Myrtle’s bathroom. Once Harry entered, Draco raised his wand and for a moment Harry thought they were back to trying to hex each other, but Draco simply cast a few spells to ward of intruders.

“We don’t want any company tonight”, Draco said slyly as Harry approached.

Harry shook his head and closed the distance between them. Perhaps he’d intended to say something, but last time had left him unsatisfied and wanting. It wouldn’t be too bad, he thought as Draco pulled him in gently, grabbing his tie and leaning in to press his mouth against Harry’s, to enjoy this first and say what he needed to say later. Harry kissed back eagerly, his hand already rubbing against Draco, going for his zipper.

“Wait”, Draco said, pulling away.

He stared down at their feet, cheeks red, clearly embarrassed about something.

“What?” Harry said, moving his hand up to Draco’s waist again.

Draco bit his lip. “Well, I- I want you to do what you did the other night.”

He looked up at Harry again almost defiantly, as if he was expecting resistance. Harry felt his own cheeks heating. He hadn’t known how Draco would react to _that_ – they hadn’t talked about doing anything like _that_ at all. In fact, they hadn’t talked about wanting or doing anything. Harry wondered if he’d ever spoken to Draco for as long as he had that night. Their other meetings had been more physical affairs, any words uttered at all had hardly contained more than a syllable. Their means of communication was mostly limited to grunts and gasps.

“Okay”, Harry said softly, kissing Draco lightly on the neck.

It took them a moment to figure out the best position to resume. At last they found themselves on the floor in much the same way they had before. In an act of chivalry, or something of the like, Harry had taken off his robes and spread them across the floor, so Draco wouldn’t have to lie on the damp clinker. A decision he immediately regretted, as Draco snorted and curtsied and said: “What a gentleman!” in a girly voice that still managed to retain his most contemptuous tone.

Draco lay down on top of the makeshift blanket anyway and Harry sank down beside him. Harry struggled Draco’s trousers and underwear down to his knees. Draco just lay there, staring resolutely at the ceiling, limp and clearly embarrassed. Harry, thinking it would probably be comforting if he too was exposed, gave himself the same treatment before he straddled Draco’s hips and bent down to kiss him.

After a bit of stiff lip-smacking, Draco seemed to relax underneath Harry. His hands tangled in Harry’s hair and he bucked his hips upwards, rubbing their now hard cocks together unceremoniously. Harry moved down slightly, kissing Draco’s neck and collarbones while his hand moved to Draco’s cock. Harry straightened further and once more he slipped his fingers downwards, wetting them with some saliva beforehand. He worked slowly, one hand still getting Draco off while he worked a finger inside. Draco gasped and moaned as Harry’s finger pushed further into him.

“More”, he moaned. “More.”

Harry bit his lips and obeyed, slowly working another finger in. The way Draco was quivering and gasping underneath him made him crave some friction of his own, but he didn’t want the distraction. Draco moaned as the second finger slipped inside him and Harry quickened his pace. Before long, Draco was coming, his body shaking.

“Stand up”, Draco demanded after a moment of recovery.

“What?” Harry said, startled.

“Stand up”, Draco repeated in a tone that didn’t allow for refusal.

Harry shuffled to his feet awkwardly, wondering what on earth had gotten into Draco, his dick half hard and neglected. Draco stood on his knees before Harry and began stroking Harry’s cock lightly. Harry’s breathing became heavier as he got hard again. He looked down at Draco, who met his gaze. Then, Draco stretched out his tongue and licked the tip of Harry’s dick tentatively. Harry gasped involuntarily, and Draco did it again. Slowly but surely, he licked the length of Harry’s cock, before opening his lips and taking it in his mouth. Harry bit down hard to keep himself from making an obscene sound. He ran his hands through Draco’s blonde hair, pulling it away from his face, as Draco bopped his head up and down at a steady rhythm, his tongue occasionally flickering over the tip of Harry’s cock.

“Oh, Draco, I’m close, you better stop”, Harry gasped.

But Draco only increased his speed, wrapping his hand around Harry’s dick again as he kept sucking. Before Harry knew it, he was coming with a stifled moan, spilling into Draco’s mouth. Draco looked up at Harry as he came, and Harry thought he could see a smirk on his lips despite the fact they were still around his cock. Then, Draco swallowed, making Harry moan from just the sight, and pulled away with a parting lick that made Harry quiver.

They dressed in silence. Harry watched as Draco combed through his hair with his fingers. Harry had decided. He was going to say it now, but he didn’t know where to start. Did you curse Katie Bell? What are you up to? Where have you been disappearing to? Are you a Death Eater now?

“Are you”, Harry started. “Ehm, going to Slughorns party?” Confronting Draco after he’d just given Harry an orgasm that still had his knees shaking simply seemed too rude.

Draco looked up and turned towards Harry, eyes narrow and arms crossed over his chests.

“Why? Do you want to take me?” he sneered.

Harry looked away. “Of course not, I was just asking.”

Draco eyed him for a moment before turning back to his own reflection. “No. I’m not exactly Slug-club material anymore.”

“You mean you weren’t invited.”

Draco spun around again, looking angry. “No, I wasn’t invited. Do you want that in writing or will you take my word for it?”

“Sore spot?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow, but he regretted it immediately. If it wasn’t for what had happened with his father at the ministry, Draco would surely be bragging about being Slughorn’s new favorite and attending all the Slug-club happenings.

Either Draco didn’t hear Harry’s comment, or he didn’t deem it worthy of a reply. After a few minutes of silence, he turned back to Harry, the anger washed away.

“So there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up next weekend”, Draco said tentatively.

“Yeah? What, want to take me?” Harry teased.

“I’m not going. Perhaps, if you also weren’t going… Well, the castle will be deserted.”

“Oh”, Harry said. He’d made plans to go with Ron and Hermione, but now that Ron and Hermione were no longer on speaking terms he assumed that wasn’t happening anyway. Ron would be off with Lavender, and Hermione, well, she’d just have to make do without him. “I don’t have to go to Hogsmeade.”

***

There was still over a week until the Hogsmeade trip and longer still until Christmas break. The days passed by as usual, with class, homework, secret meetings, and Romilda Vane trying to slip him love potion.

“She’ll stop that if you just ask someone to go with you”, Hermione said as Harry declined a bottle of Butter Beer from a rather sour looking Romilda.

“There’s not a single girl at Hogwarts I’d like to take on a date to a Slug-club event”, Harry said in annoyance.

“Oh, okay, sorry”, Hermione said, acting like she’d drop it, but Harry knew her too well to believe it.

“Just say whatever it is you want to say.”

Hermione at least had the decency to feign surprise. “Well”, she said. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been disappearing again, and I was wondering if I was wrong about you following Malfoy around…” She hesitated, looking up at Harry, who stared back, trying to look apprehensive despite his heart was beating rapidly. “And, I was thinking that maybe you were meeting someone.”

When Harry didn’t respond, she continued, sounding increasingly more nervous. “But then that had me wondering why you wouldn’t tell us, and the only reason I could come up with is that it’s someone you wouldn’t want us to know about.” Harry swallowed. “Oh, Harry, I don’t care who it is, just tell me it’s not Parkinson!”

At this and Hermione’s tone of absolute despair, Harry burst out laughing. “Parkinson? You think I’m secretly seeing Pansy Parkinson?”

Hermione blushed and said indignantly: “Well, I couldn’t phantom anyone else quite so horrible you couldn’t tell us, oh ehm, me, about it. Unless it’s Lavender?” She sounded almost hopeful.

“I’m not seeing Parkinson or Lavender, or any other girl fort that matter”, he said firmly. “Come one Hermione, you can’t think that little of me. I’m not dating anyone.”  
Technically, this was true. He wasn’t dating Malfoy. It was just a makeshift affair with the one goal of getting off. Perhaps not entirely ethical, but it wasn’t an outright lie.

She sighed. “Alright, alright. It was just a theory.”

***

The next unwanted theory came a few days later, but from Ron.

“Harry!” Ron gasped, running into the potions classroom and skidding to a halt, almost knocking over a set of cauldrons. “You won’t believe what I’ve just heard.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down next to Harry, ignoring Hermione sitting on Harry’s other side.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ron looked around and deemed the coast to be clear.

“I was talking to Padma and Parvati Patil, they’re friends of Lav’s, you know”, Ron said and Harry, who did know, suspected Ron only added this to irk Hermione. “And you won’t believe who Padma swears she saw coming out of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom last night.”

Harry was filled with a dawning sense of mortification since he could very well imagine who Padma had seen, but he had to at least try and feign nonchalance. “Who?”

“Draco Malfoy! But that’s not all, she’s dating Seamus – didn’t know that myself – and apparently, they were off to find a quiet corner and when they went past Myrtle’s bathroom she could swear she heard voices. Then, the door opened so she hid with Seamus in an empty classroom. And there Malfoy was, but he was alone. Naturally, she went in to see who’d he been talking to but there was no one in there! I don’t know about you, but personally I think he’s going on secret dates with Myrtle.”

Ron evidently thought Harry would find this hilarious. Of course, Ron didn’t know that Harry, wearing the invisibility cloak, had snuck out of that bathroom with Draco Malfoy the night before. Harry was afraid to look at Hermione, but he couldn’t help glancing over at her. Her face was hidden behind a book, but he thought she was listening.

“Bloody hell, Harry, I thought at least you would appreciate this story. Now you finally have some proof Malfoy’s doing something weird”, Ron sulked, clearly displeased with Harry’s stale response.

Harry was trying to think fast. “I don’t think it’s funny. I – I think he’s going into the Chamber of Secrets.”

Harry knew at once that he’d said this too loud. He glanced around the room and everyone, including Draco himself, was looking over at him.

“You think _what?_ ” Ron asked, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Well, it makes sense”, Harry continued in a lower voice, figuring he might as well dive in now that he’d scathed the surface. “He keeps disappearing off the map – and the chamber wouldn’t be on the map – and basilisk venom, right, it’s extremely dangerous, only one known cure and all of that. Voldemort could’ve taught him how to get in. It makes sense!”

Hermione had stopped pretending to read and Harry saw her exchange a glance with Ron. At least their worry for his sanity had them acknowledge each other, he thought.

“Then who do you reckon he was talking to?” Ron asked.

“Maybe Myrtle’s helping him!” Harry exclaimed, grasping at straws.

“Myrtle, who was killed by a basilisk let loose by You-Know-Who would be helping Malfoy, who you think is a follower of You-Know-Who, kill someone using basilisk venom?” Ron said skeptically.

Harry crossed his arms. “Maybe she’s not helping him, maybe she was just there talking to him.”

He caught Ron shooting Hermione another worried look.

“Mate, you’re starting to sound the way you did when you were twelve. Did you hit your head or something?” Ron asked, peering at Harry like he was actually searching for some physical defect to explain Harry’s odd behavior.

“Harry”, Hermione whispered. “Extracting basilisk venom is extremely dangerous. He’d need to bring in a bunch of magical tools that hardly would go unnoticed in one of Filch’s searches. The only other option would be to tear the fangs out, but don’t you think Padma would’ve noticed if Draco was carrying around a bunch of basilisk fangs? Your conviction Malfoy is a Death Eater is really clouding your judgement.”

To Harry’s relief, Slughorn entered the room at that and prevented Hermione from saying whatever else she’d been about to say.

***

Harry didn’t see Draco outside of class for the rest of the week. He wouldn’t have dared to go back to Myrtle’s bathroom anyway, not when half the school seemed to have subscribed to Ron’s theory and was spreading rumors Draco was really dating her. When Saturday rolled around, Harry wondered if Draco had gotten cold feet, but when he awoke that morning he found the enchanted coin burning hot. Hermione wasn’t pleased to hear he was abandoning her, but she seemed somewhat appeased when Harry ensured her it was to catch up on his schoolwork. After the majority of the students had left the castle to go into Hogsmeade, Harry slipped on his invisibility cloak and left Gryffindor tower.

He found Draco waiting for him outside the Slytherin common room.

“It’s me”, Harry said and reached out to tap Draco’s shoulder.

Draco jerked slightly, looking three feet to Harry’s left. “Finally. Merlin.”

The patch of stone wall Draco was standing in front of opened up and Harry followed Draco through it. The common room looked even gloomier than Harry remembered it, now nearly deserted, except for a couple of first years sitting huddled in a corner. Draco didn’t give Harry time to look around; he stalked over to the other side of the room and continued up a flight of stairs with Harry at his heels. They entered through a thick wooden door into a dormitory, smaller than the ones in Gryffindor tower, with stone walls and floors. Three wooden beds draped in green stood against the far wall and a window to the lake cast a greenish light across the room. It smelled like The Forbidden Forrest after spring rain, like freshly dug up dirt, and musk. Harry recognized it from Draco’s hair and clothing. The walls were clad in large tapestries of famous Slytherins doing various heroics and Harry studied these as Draco cast every protective spell known to man around the room.

“Don’t you think that’s enough to ward off Crabbe and Goyle?” Harry asked at last, pulling off the cloak. “Aren’t they in Hogsmeade?”

“They are”, Draco confirmed, lowering his wand. “I think they were going to try and steal a bottle of fire whiskey from The Hog’s Head. I’d quite fancy seeing how that one turns out.”

Harry snorted. “Sad you had to miss it.”

Draco approached him with a sly smile on his lips. “That all depends on how this goes, doesn’t it?”

Harry grinned back. He’d feared Draco would want to discuss what had happened in potions, but Draco seemed entirely unconcerned about it. Instead, Draco pushed him backwards lightly, so he sat down on one of the green beds. Draco proceeded to settle himself on Harry’s lap, straddling him so they were sitting face to face. Harry shuffled backwards and lay down, holding Draco gently and guiding him down on top of him.

“Better than the bathroom floor?” Draco asked, wiping a few strands of hair from Harry’s eyes.

“Just a tad”, Harry replied and pulled Draco down for a kiss.

Kissing on a soft bed certainly was preferable to doing it in a bathroom stall. Harry placed eager kisses down Draco’s neck and after spinning them around, so Draco was on the bottom, Harry went straight for his trousers.

“Now, now”, Draco drawled, slapping Harry’s hand away. “We have all the time in the world. Well, at least a couple of hours. There’s no need to go straight for the finish line.”

Harry simply grunted in response and smashed his mouth against Draco’s once more. Slowly, Draco slipped Harry’s robes down his shoulders and Harry stopped long enough to pull it off. Then, Draco set to work on his shirt buttons, unbuttoning them slowly until Harry could pull that off too. Draco’s fingers caressed Harry’s skin gently, running up and down his back and over his chest. Harry followed suit and undid Draco’s shirt swiftly. Draco sat up on his knees, so Harry could pull the garment off and toss it to the floor. Suddenly Harry realized that this was the moment he would find out if Draco truly was a Death Eater and dread filled him, but when Harry glanced down at Draco’s left forearm he found it beautifully bare.

“Looking for something?” Draco said coldly, moving away slightly, having noticed Harry’s gaze.

“No, no, sorry”, Harry mumbled hurriedly, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and pulling him in closer to kiss him.

His hands ran down Draco’s back and his fingers graced over skin rising in hard ridges like the jagged edge of a blade. Harry paused in momentary confusion and Draco shuffled away from him uncomfortably, but Harry grabbed his hands.

“Draco”, he said in a low voice. “Let me see.”

With a sigh, Draco turned around. White scars clad his back, stretching this way and that. They reached for his shoulders and down towards his lower back. Some were thin as a strand of hair, while others were lumpy and uneven. Harry let his fingertips brush against them gently. It looked like Draco had been whipped, but Harry knew the wounds must’ve been the result of dark magic for the scars not to go away with the help of magical remedies.

“Who did this to you?” Harry breathed.

“I’d rather not discuss that.” His tone didn’t leave room for objection.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on one of the scars, turning tomato red as soon as he realized what he’d done. Draco’s entire body went stiff for a moment, before he turned around and gave Harry a reproachful look.

“Take off your trousers and never do that again.”

Harry chuckled but did as he was told. He then turned to Draco and began pulling at his trousers as Draco lay down on his back and lifted his hips to help. Soon, they were both naked.

Harry could feel Draco’s eyes traveling across his body, his chest, his thighs, his hips. He would’ve felt embarrassed if he wasn’t busy examining Draco lying underneath him, letting his hands travel all the way down his front, from his neck, over the sharp collarbones, down his chest, gracing his hips and gently caressing the inside of his thighs and then continuing down his calves. Draco was thinner than Harry had expected, hipbones jutting out and ribs visible.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you naked”, Draco mumbled appreciatively.

Harry, who’d been thinking something along the same lines, flushed. “It’ll be the last time if you don’t watch your mouth.”

Draco smirked and pulled Harry in for a kiss. Harry responded enthusiastically and let one hand run down Draco’s chest, until it could wrap around his cock. Draco’s breathing caught as Harry began moving his arm up and down at a steady rhythm, and then he felt Draco’s fingers on him.

They stayed like that for a while, stroking each other lazily while kissing, until Draco spread his legs slightly – a gesture Harry had already learned to recognize. He relinquished his grip on Draco’s dick and slipped his finger down between his cheeks.

“Wait”, Draco exclaimed, and Harry paused.

From a drawer next to the bed, Draco pulled out a small glass jar that he gave to Harry.

“Use this”, he urged.

Harry opened the jar and stared suspiciously at the clear lotion. Then, with a nod from Draco, he dipped his fingers into it and resumed where he’d left off. His first finger slipped inside Draco with ease. Draco moaned as Harry pushed further into him. The second finger soon followed, and Draco quivered. Then Harry, feeling inspired leaned forward over Draco, guiding Draco’s dick with his free hand, and took it in his mouth. Up until now, Draco had only been on the giving end of this. Harry bobbed his head up and down awkwardly, struggling to find a pace that suited him, but Draco seemed to enjoy it even so.

“Okay, Harry, you need to stop, that’s no good. Or, what I mean is, it’s too good.”

“What, don’t you want me to make you cum?” Harry said.

Draco eyed him. “Not yet. I want you to fuck me first.”

Out of all the things Harry could have imagined Draco ever saying to him at the start of the year, this was not one of them. 

“Okay”, he gasped, kissing Draco hard.

Draco lay on his back with his legs resting against Harry’s shoulders. Slowly, Harry guided his lotion covered cock up against Draco’s hole.

“Please, be gentle”, Draco whispered.

Harry nodded and pushed lightly. Draco breathed in sharply as the tip of Harry’s dick slipped inside him ever so slightly.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry whispered, but Draco shook his head.

“Just go slow.”

Harry obeyed, hardly moving at all until half his dick was buried in Draco’s ass, even though he yearned to. Then, he pulled back tentatively, earning himself a gasp, before pushing back in. After a few slow strokes, Harry picked up the pace just a bit. Draco moaned as he’d gotten used to the sensation. Harry himself couldn’t keep quiet. Each stroke had him gasping. The tight pressure around his cock was almost too much, comparable only to the wet sensation of Draco’s mouth. Draco had one hand wrapped around his own cock, the other grabbed onto Harry’s shoulder, hard.

“Harder”, Draco demanded. “Fuck me harder.”

Harry tried to do as bid, but he was so close now.

“I’ll cum”, Harry moaned.

“Then cum!”

With a gasp Harry went harder and faster, managing a few more thrusts before he pulled out, just after Draco shuttered and spilled his seed onto his own stomach. Harry’s cum mixed in moments later and once he was done, Harry collapsed onto the bed next to Draco.

“That was something”, Harry said once he could finally breathe normally again.

Draco hummed in agreement, rolled over to his side, and kissed Harry softly on the lips. Harry was surprised but not displeased at this display of tenderness and pulled Draco closer. After a moment, Draco broke away and settled back a bit further from Harry, though their arms were still touching.

Harry found himself fighting the urge to grasp Draco’s hand.

“So, I suppose we can’t go back to Myrtle’s bathroom for a while”, Harry said at last.

Draco groaned. “Damn that blasted girl, and Weasley too. Pansy has been all over me this whole week.”

Harry stifled a laugh. “What, does your girlfriend think you’re dumping her for a ghost?”

Draco raised himself up on an elbow and stared down at Harry reproachfully. “Firstly, of course not – only Weasley is that stupid – and secondly, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Hey, lay off, Ron’s not stupid”, Harry said, feeling he had to defend his best friend. “If anyone has the right to spread nasty rumors about you, it’s him and Hermione.”

Draco shrugged, apparently thinking better of spitting out worse insults. “If you say so. It still means we can’t be seen around there anymore.”

Although they didn’t say it out loud, not finding a new meeting place would be the end of their escapades. With Filch lurking around the castle and the new security measures, sneaking into empty classrooms wasn’t an option.

“What about the prefect’s bathroom?” Harry asked and then added, cursing himself for not thinking of it earlier, he added: “Or the Room of Requirement?”

Harry thought he could see Draco jerk at this, but his facial expression was unreadable.

“Well”, Draco said in a level voice. “The prefect’s bathroom would be risqué, since there’s over a dozen others using it… Not to mention that Moaning Myrtle lurks around there as much as she does her own toilet.”

“So, the Room of Requirement then”, Harry continued, eyeing Draco suspiciously.

“I guess”, Draco replied unenthusiastically.

Harry sat up, casting Draco one last sidelong glance. “It’s getting late, I better get back before people start returning from Hogsmeade.”

Suddenly feeling shy, Harry hurried to get dressed. He slipped on the invisibility cloak as Malfoy straightened out the bed covers.

“I’m going”, Harry said and pulled the cloak all the way over his head.

He slipped out the door after listening for footsteps and hurried down into the Slytherin common room, which was starting to fill up with students again. When someone came through the secret passage in the wall, Harry slipped past them. Well out in the corridor, he sank down to the floor and waited.

It wasn’t long before Draco came out, glancing around suspiciously before taking off along the hallway. Harry followed as closely as he dared, out of the dungeons and up the stairs to the seventh floor, down the hallway to the left to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. Here, Draco halted and after pacing back and forth three times, he disappeared through a door that had magically appeared in the wall. Harry took out the Marauder’s map and stared down at it. He could see himself in the corridor, but neither Draco nor the Room of Requirement were anywhere to be found.


	3. Old Grudges And New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is arriving at Hogwarts, but is anyone in the Christmas spirit this year?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

It was an hour or so before Ron entered the Gryffindor common room, holding hands with Lavender. Harry rose from his seat by the fire and stalked over to them, grabbing Ron by the collar and hauling him back out of the portrait hole.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to borrow Won-won for a bit”, Harry called back over his shoulder when Lavender protested.

“Ow”, Ron said rubbing his neck once Harry released him. “What was that for?”

Harry ignored him. “Where’s Hermione?”

“Harry, what-”

“ _Where’s Hermione?_ ” Harry repeated angrily.

Ron looked surprised and fell silent. Then, he pointed over Harry’s shoulder. “Right there.”

Harry turned around and saw Hermione walking in the direction Ron had pointed, away from them.

“Hermione! _Hermione stop!_ ” Harry called when she didn’t listen.

Finally, she came to a halt and turned around, looking rather sour. “What?” She spat.

Harry grabbed Ron by the arm and dragged him towards Hermione, leading them both down a deserted corridor where they could talk undisturbed.

“That ugly, stupid, evil bastard!” Harry muttered under his breath once he deemed they were far away enough not to be overheard.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione asked with a concerned look on her face.

“I’ve figured it out! He’s going into the Room of Requirement! It must be unplottable and that’s why I couldn’t find him earlier.”

Ron and Hermione groaned in unison and exchanged a knowing look.

“Not this _again_!” Hermione complained.

“Yeah, mate, just this week you thought Malfoy was going into the Chamber of Secrets”, Ron agreed.

Harry flushed slightly. “This time I saw him!”

“You saw what he was doing in the Room of Requirement?” Ron asked.

“Well, no”, Harry said crossing his arms defensively. “It wouldn’t let me in.”

He’d tried his best to get in by asking the room to make the door reappear, using a variety of phrases. Yet the wall had remained stubbornly smooth.

“Is that why you didn’t go into Hogsmeade with me? To follow Draco Malfoy around the castle?” Hermione hissed angrily. “Listen, Harry, you’re obsessed. You’re acting irrationally. You have no proof whatsoever – in fact, all the proof we have point _against_ Malfoy being a Death Eater or cursing Katie, but no you just have to go on and on about it!”

“Have to say I’m with her on that one”, Ron said.

“Oh, _you!_ ” Hermione exclaimed, raising her voice as her face turned red. “You shut up!”

With that, she shoved Harry aside and stormed off. Harry stared after her before turning to Ron.

“What did you do?” He asked.

Ron at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Well, we ran into her in Honeydukes and asked if she was going with anyone to Slughorn’s party, but she said she was but that it was none of my business.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron relented the rest of the story. “And, well, then I may have insinuated that she didn’t really have a date or something like that.”

“How sensitive of you”, Harry muttered.

Ron scratched the back of his head. “Maybe not. But Harry, I have to say she is right on this one. You know I think Malfoy’s the biggest prick to walk the Earth, but you seem… A bit bonkers actually.”

“Gee, thanks Ron. Let’s just drop it.”

Ron seemed happy to do so and they changed the subject to Quidditch as they walked back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

***

Harry stood staring at the blank piece of wall, as he so often had the last few days. After a few seconds of hard thinking, a polished wooden door appeared in the stone. That was a first, Harry thought in annoyance as he, after taking one last look around him, pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was smaller than it had been the last time he’d been there. The stone floor was almost entirely covered in carpet and large tapestries hung on the walls. The only furniture in the room was a wooden drawer and a large four poster bed, on which Draco Malfoy lay sprawled.

Malfoy sat up as Harry closed the door behind him.

“I was starting to think you were standing me up”, Draco said with a sly grin, beckoning Harry closer.

He almost had. When the coin had heated up he’d almost tossed it out the window. He didn’t inform Malfoy of this, but instead he stepped forward but pulled out his wand.

“No need for protective spells – I’ve made sure the room won’t let anyone else in.”

“You seem pretty familiar with the workings of this room”, Harry spat angrily.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “So, what if I am?”

“You’re doing something in here and I know it.”

His voice was harsh, and he kept his eyes on Malfoy, watching for any sudden movement.

The look Draco gave him was contemptuous. “And what is it to you? Do I have to tell you everything I do?”

Harry drew a deep breath. “Did you curse Katie Bell? Did you give her that necklace?”

Draco made a dismissive gesture. “Why would I want to curse Katie Bell?”

“That’s not what I asked you. Did you or did you not give her the necklace?” Harry said, raising his voice and stepping forward, his wand clenched in his fist. It was getting harder to keep his cool.

Draco stood up. “If you’re truly convinced I’ve done all these things you accuse me off – opening the Chamber of Secrets, cursing Bell, being a Death Eater,” Draco pointed to his left forearm. “Then, why have you been meeting up with me? Why would The Boy Who Lived run around with the son of a Death Eater if he thought the son was just as bad as the father?” He looked at Harry with the outmost disgust, his face distorted in a grimace. “I don’t owe you any answers, Potter.”

Harry was boiling with rage. “So, you won’t deny it then?”

Draco scoffed. “Believe what you want, you and your piss-poor blood traitor and mudbl-”

“ _Don’t you dare call her that!_ ” Harry snarled and raised his wand.

“Go on then, curse me”, Draco said and held out his empty hands. “I’m unarmed, perhaps the ever so honorable Potter has a problem with that?”

Harry let out a low, ferocious grunt. He wanted to curse Malfoy. He wanted to send him flying across the room. Instead, he mustered all his willpower and turned on his heels, bursting out of the room before things truly got ugly.

 

Harry didn’t see Draco out of class after that. He stowed the coin Draco had given him at the bottom of his trunk to avoid temptation. It was unnecessary, however, because Draco didn’t try to contact him. Occasionally, Harry would sneak the coin out and turn it over, but nothing had changed. It was for the better, he thought. Draco had been right when he’d said that Harry, out of all people, shouldn’t be running around with the son of a known Death Eater. Harry had let his own physical desire get in the way of everything he was working for, let it get in the way of defeating Voldemort. Draco was on the other side of this and that made him the enemy. Harry had to remember that. He became even more convinced of this as he took up his old habit of checking the Marauder’s map regularly again, and saw that Malfoy was missing more often than not.

***

“Six weeks!” Hermione shrieked. “You’ve had six weeks to ask someone to this blasted party, and you’re telling me you still haven’t asked anyone? It’s tonight, Harry!”

Harry immediately regretted telling Hermione he was still dateless. “Well, I’ve had other things to think about.”

Hermione just shook her head. “You might just have to take Romilda Vane.”

“That’s not funny, Hermione. Who are you going with, anyway?”

Hermione turned bright pink. “McLaggen”, she whispered.

Harry almost spit pumpkin juice into her face. “Not Cormac McLaggen?”

She nodded.

“Hermione, don’t you think that’s taking spiting Ron a bit too far? You do know you’ll actually have to talk to him?” Harry said, concerned.

Hermione flicked her hair back. “Of course I know that. Don’t you try and change the subject, who are you going to ask?”

Harry looked around the great hall in search of anyone he could stand to spend an entire evening with and spotted a girl with dirt blonde hair and radish earrings. “I’m going to ask Luna.”

When he looked back to Hermione, he saw she wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. Ron, Lavender and Parvati were heading their way and a foxlike smile had crept onto Hermione’s face.

***

It was with mixed feelings Harry watched Draco Malfoy being dragged by the ear by Filch through Slughorn’s party later that night. On one hand, Malfoy deserved the humiliation of it all, but on the other, he was about the last person Harry had hoped to see. So, when Slughorn declared that Malfoy might stay, no one except perhaps Malfoy himself, looked more displeased. Harry couldn’t keep himself from casting sidelong glances at Malfoy as the latter started chatting with Slughorn, having composed himself. His skin had a grey tint that hadn’t been there before, and his eyes were bloodshot. When Snape finally hauled off with Malfoy again, Harry only needed a moment to decide.

“I’ll be right back, Luna I… ehm…. Have to use the bathroom.”

With that, Harry hurried after them, pulling on the invisibility cloak as soon as he entered the hallway outside the party. He ran down the corridor, listening at every door on the way. Finally, at the last classroom, he picked up Snape’s voice.

“… grave mistakes! You’ll be expelled!”

“For the last time, I didn’t give that necklace to Katie Bell.”

“I hope you’re telling the truth, because that was too sloppy. There was no chance of success. You know our master has little patience for recklessness. Speaking of which, your minions tell me you haven’t been focusing nearly enough on the task at hand.”

There was silence.

“I can help you, Draco”, Snape continued. “If you just tell me what it is you are – or at least you were – planning. I can help you get your bearings again.”

More silence, then Draco angrily said: “Stop looking at me like that, I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work.”

“Your dear auntie has taught you occlumency? Very well then.”

Harry had never in his life felt more relieved that Draco was better than him at something.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Draco, but you _need_ my help. I understand that your father being hauled off to Azkaban has upset you, but you’ve merely had a taste of the consequences, should you fail. Just remember that I have sworn the unbreakable oath, so it’s not just your life you’re throwing away.”

Harry only had a moment’s warning, but it was just enough for him to move away from the door before it was thrown open and Snape stormed out. Once Snape had disappeared around the corner, Harry dared to breathe again. He peered into the classroom and saw Draco staring out a window, his hands gripping onto the back of a chair. Harry moved into the room slowly, not sure if he really wanted to reveal himself. As he moved closer, he saw that tears stained Draco’s cheeks and was so surprised he accidentally knocked into a desk.

“Who’s there?” Draco called sharply.

Harry took a deep breath and pulled off the cloak. Draco’s eyes narrowed as Harry appeared in the room.

“ _You_ ”, Draco snarled through gritted teeth, fumbling for his wand. “Get out!”

“Draco, wait!”

But Draco didn’t wait. He’d gotten hold of his wand and set off a jet of red light that narrowly missed Harry.

“Draco-”

But more jets of light filled the room as Draco screamed in fury, and Harry turned and fled out of the room.

***

Harry was happy to leave Hogwarts with Ron for Christmas break the next day. He thought it best if some time passed before he saw Draco again. Ron listened eagerly as Harry retold the events of the previous nights, leaving out how the debacle had ended.

“Unbreakable oath”, Ron whispered as they were preparing that night’s dinner in the kitchen in the Burrow. “That one’s no joke.”

“What does it mean?” Harry asked, glancing around to make sure Mrs. Weasley wasn’t about to enter.

“Well, for starters, you can’t break an unbreakable oath.”

“That much I’d figured out for myself, you genius”, Harry replied, earning himself a kick to the shins. “What happens if you do break one?”

“You die”, Ron said simply. “But, you do know that everyone will just tell you that Dumbledore trusts Snape and he was just trying to find out what Malfoy was doing, right? You know, everything they’ve been saying for the last six years.”

Harry sighed. “I know.”

He could already envision Hermione saying exactly, this once he got a chance to tell her. After escaping the enraged Draco, he’d found Hermione had also given McLaggen the slip and left the party early.

 

He wasn’t surprised when both Lupin and Mr. Weasley presented him with the same arguments when he told them what he’d overheard, later that evening. The exchange put him in a worse mood anyway, and in the middle of Celestina bellowing the chorus of “You stole my cauldron, but you can’t have my heart” over the radio, he excused himself and slipped upstairs. In Ron’s room, he fumbled through a pile of dirty clothes and found the Marauder’s map in one of his pockets.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Harry scanned the castle. It was strange seeing it empty like that, just a few marked dots in their respective beds. He spotted Draco in the Slytherin dungeon. He wasn’t surprised to see him stay at Hogwarts, given that Christmas at Malfoy Manor must be a rather gloomy affair this year. What did worry Harry was that Draco had started going missing for longer periods of time. It was the first time he’d seen him on the map all day. If he hadn’t overheard Pansy Parkinson complaining that Draco would be spending Christmas all alone at Hogwarts, Harry would’ve thought Draco had gone home after all.

Harry thought finally having proof that Draco was doing something would’ve brought him joy, especially after their most recent falling out. Still he found himself feeling bad for Draco. He didn’t seem to want the assignment he’d been given. It sounded more like it had been forced upon him. Harry remembered the scars on Draco’s back and the terrible magic that must’ve been used to bring about wounds like that. Either way, it seemed like Draco had mostly abandoned whatever his mission was around the time he and Harry had started meeting up after curfew. Perhaps it had been wrong to judge so quickly, Harry thought, and now he knew Snape bore at least part of the blame, the way he’d been pushing Draco to continue.

He was torn from his thoughts when the door opened, and Ron entered the room. Harry quickly hid the map underneath his pillow.

“Don’t go down there”, Ron panted, having run all the way up to the attic. “Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing ‘A cauldron full of hot, strong love’, and mom is about one chorus away from turning her into gnome food.”

***

They returned to Hogwarts a few days after New Year’s. He wanted to try and contact Draco straight away, but he hadn’t even entered the common room before Hermione gave him a parchment roll that told him his next meeting with Dumbledore would take place that night. Once they finally had gotten installed, he told Hermione about what had happened during the party in hushed whispers, while she pointedly ignored Ron and Lavender having a happy reunion, involving a lot of tongue but not a lot of talking, in the armchair next to her.

Once Harry had finished, Hermione said: “You don’t think…”

“That Snape was just trying to find out what Malfoy’s up to?”

“Well, yeah.”

Harry sighed and told her about his conversations with Lupin and Mr. Weasley.

“But, now we know he’s definitely up to something, and that he’s acting on Voldemort’s orders.”

“Did either of them actually say that?” Hermione asked, moving her chair further away from Ron and Lavender.

“No”, Harry admitted. “But it was implied, I mean, what other master could they be talking about?”

“Perhaps then”, Hermione said in a low voice. “Perhaps it’s possible he is a Death Eater.”

“He doesn’t have a Dark Mark”, Harry blurted out without thinking.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How exactly do you know that?”

“I… I, uhm… Ran into him in the bathroom and he had his sleeves rolled up.”

“Don’t tell me you even followed him into the toilet!”

Her voice was a bit too loud and Harry turned red.

“How’s McLaggen doing?” He retorted. “Did you write a lot over the break?”

At that, Ron looked up. “What?”

The possibility that Hermione really was dating McLaggen had been up for discussion on more than one occasion during their stay at the Burrow.

Feeling especially malicious, Harry pretended to peer over Hermione’s shoulder, towards the portrait hole. “I think that’s him coming there.”

Hermione let out a little yelp, slid off her chair and hurried up to the girls’ dormitory.

 

As expected, Dumbledore didn’t make much of the conversation Harry had overheard. Harry felt a sense of defeat now that those whose judgment he trusted the most had shot him down without giving an explanation as to why.

 

The next evening, Harry went to the room of requirement with Draco’s coin tucked away in his pocket. He’d consulted the map to make sure Draco wasn’t there already, but the latter was having late dinner in the Great Hall. Harry hoped he could recreate the room Draco had conjured forward and was pleasantly surprised when he entered the fabric-clad room. He sat down on the bed, magically altered the coin, and waited.

It had been a good twenty minutes before Draco opened the door and wearily stepped inside.

“You sure have nerve, Potter”, Draco hissed as he glanced around the romantically candle-lit space.

Harry blushed. “I didn’t call you here for _that_ ”, he replied, standing up and desperately wishing the bed was a set of armchairs instead.

In just a matter of seconds, the bed had been replaced with one green and one red armchair, much resembling those in the Gryffindor common room.

“I just wanted to… Talk to you.”

Harry gestured for Draco to sit down. Draco hesitated, then he sighed and walked over to Harry and they both sunk down into the plush chairs.

“So, what is it that’s so important”, Draco asked, tapping his feet against the carpet and looking anywhere but at Harry.

Harry didn’t know where to start. “Well I’m sorry for…”

“For what?” Draco interrupted. “For thinking I’m a desperate piece of shit? I am, so don’t be. You don’t know me Potter, you don’t know the slightest thing about what I want or what I’m doing.”

“I was going to say I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I already know you’re a piece of shit, you’ve been nothing but horrible to me and my friends for the last six years. You broke my nose less than six months ago, remember? What I wanted to say was… Well, I think that maybe you’ve been a bit less of a piece of shit lately. I do know you’re in a bad situation and I wanted to tell you that I know people who could help.”

Draco laughed a cold, disdainful, laugh. “Help me? Potter, the only way you could help me is by distracting me from all the outrageous shit that goes on in this rathole. I don’t need or want anything else from you.”

With that, Draco stood and pulled Harry up with him. The chairs disappeared, and the bed appeared once more. Draco pushed Harry down onto it none too gently. Harry couldn’t shake the feeling he was being used. As Draco lowered himself onto Harry’s cock, riding him fast and hard, he couldn’t help but think that if this was how Draco wanted to use him, he was fine with that.


	4. Have a Harry Valentine's Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco make up just in time for Valentine's day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

After the sudden reunion, their meetings became a regular thing again. Whenever he had time to spare, Harry would slip away to the Room of Requirement to see Draco. At first, the encounters were back to being largely wordless affairs. Some nights the only things they said to each other was “Yes! No! Faster! Harder!” As time passed Draco seemed to warm up ever so slightly towards Harry again.

One evening, as they were laying on the bed in the Room of Requirement, Harry broke away from the kissing.

“Do you think whoever made this room intended it to be used for this?” He asked, gesticulating towards their naked bodies.

Draco snorted. “They must’ve realized the room’s potential, if they were at all familiar with teens.”

“I’d rather not think about who else might’ve been in here, thanks.”

“Then I suggest you do a bit less talking”, Draco replied, pulling Harry back in for a kiss.

“What about you and that Cho Chang?” Draco asked as he pulled away only a few seconds later.

“Me and Cho, in here?” Harry said in surprise, turning over to his side to lie next to Draco. “It wasn’t like that. Why, are you jealous?” Harry grinned.

Draco’s cheeks turned pink. “Of course not. I was just checking if I need to keep a look out for any rashes.”

“What about you and Parkinson then?” Harry asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

Draco made a disgusted grimace. “Please, you’ll make me vomit.”

“It wouldn’t be so ludicrous, she’s always all over you.”

“I know”, Draco said with a sigh, sinking further down into the pillows. “I guess I’ve just never really been interested in being with a girl that way.” He looked horrified at having said this and hurried to angrily bark: “Now shut up and put that mouth to better use.”

Harry laughed, heart beating fast. “Like this?”

He moved down toward the end of the bed and positioned himself between Draco’s thighs. Draco breathed out heavily as Harry licked the tip of his dick in a circular motion.

“Like that.”

Harry grinned and took Draco’s cock into his mouth, bobbing his head at a steady rhythm as he worked further down the shaft until he was gagging. Pulling up for breath, he took the time to kiss and suckle Draco’s balls as the latter moaned appreciatingly. Harry then ventured further south and licked the sensitive area just below. From there, it was so close…

“Oh”, Draco exclaimed at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Draco shook his head, and Harry tentatively licked again. Draco let out a soft moan that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. Slowly, he worked his tongue into Draco while one hand set to work on Draco’s cock. The way Draco was gasping was sending Harry over the edge and he couldn’t keep from grinding against the sheets. When he finally pulled his mouth away, his pre-cum soaked finger slipped inside to replace it.

“H-Harry”, Draco stammered and shoved the jar of lubricant towards Harry.

His face was red and sweaty, his blonde hair a ruffled mess. Harry grabbed it, but then proceeded to push Draco further down into the pillows.

“You look incredible”, Harry breathed into Draco’s ear, fingers still pushing in and out of him.

Draco perhaps looked a bit more flushed, but it was hard to tell as he pulled Harry in for a deep kiss.  
  
To finally feel Draco, hot and tight, around his hard cock was blissful. Draco was on his back, legs wrapped around Harry. He met each of Harry’s strokes with a thrust of his hips, making Harry moan in a way that wasn’t entirely dignified.

“Merlin”, Draco gasped. “I’m already close.”

Harry did his best to pick up the pace without sending himself over the edge, which was getting increasingly difficult. Especially since Draco kept demanding he fuck him faster and harder.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop”, Draco moaned.

His eyes rolled backwards as Harry pumped his dick in time with each thrust. Harry struggled to continue. When Draco finally cried out and came all over Harry’s hand, his body clenching, it all became too much. In an instant Harry was cumming too, spilling into Draco. He collapsed forward, gasping for breath. They stayed like that for a while, chests and cheeks pressed together, until Harry pushed himself onto his elbows.

“Well, sorry about that”, Harry said, feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to contain himself.

Draco grasped Harry’s face and hauled him back into a kiss.

“It’s quite alright”, Draco breathed as their lips parted, making Harry smack them back together.

In the moment, Harry didn’t care that they didn’t do this. He didn’t care that Draco hadn’t so much as brushed against him after they’d finished, not since that day in the Slytherin dungeon. It was as if a door to another realm of emotion, one that wasn’t all lust and craving, had opened before him. Draco seemed to sense it too; when Harry pulled away, the expression on Draco’s face was one of absolute horror. He shoved Harry aside, not too roughly, and sat up at the edge of the bed.

“Draco”, Harry started, but fell silent, not knowing what to say.

“Do you care about me at all?” Draco said suddenly, taking Harry aback.

He was getting dangerously close to things Harry didn’t want to dwell further on, close to breaking their agreement to leave the thing between them as it was, unspoken.

“How do you mean ‘care’?” Harry asked carefully. “I mean, of course I care if you live or die, but I don’t need to know what you ate for breakfast.” He figured expressing himself as vaguely as possible was the best way out of this.

Draco nodded, seemingly unfaced. Then he glanced back over his shoulder. “Whoever gets here first next time must think very hard of a room with clean sheets.”

 ***

Harry had been scared Draco would be upset about their last exchange, but this fear proved unfounded. Draco acted in the same snarky way he usually did, although he didn’t try to kiss Harry afterwards again. Harry, who didn’t feel that the kissing by itself was in anyway breaking some unspoken rule, took matter into his own hands by kissing Draco senseless after Draco had just sucked him off. Unfortunately, one thing led to another, and before Harry knew it he was back down between Draco’s legs. After that, they both had to lie down for a while. Tentatively, Harry shifted and rested his head against Draco’s shoulder. Draco stiffened slightly but didn’t move away.

“You owe me one, Potter”, Draco said in a soft voice after a few minutes had passed.

Draco’s arm had gradually migrated and had come to wrap around Harry’s waist.

“Owe you what?” Harry asked, peering up at Draco’s face.

“Well, I told you I don’t like girls, so now you have to tell me something about you. Just to make us even.”

“Okay, then I would consider doing it with a boy”, Harry replied.

“That one doesn’t count”, Draco said in exasperation.

“If yours counted then mine absolutely counts! If you want to know something better, you’ll have to give me something first.”

“Fine”, Draco sighed. Then he paused for a moment, before continuing. “When I was little, my mom used to take me to the local muggle cinema. She didn’t much want to, but I begged and begged her for weeks. She’s never been very good at telling me no. The two of us would go and see all sorts of strange muggle films, guess you don’t really need moving pictures when you have those. Then my father decided it wasn’t good for me, so we stopped going.”

There was a dreamy tone in Draco’s voice Harry hadn’t been expecting. He could hardly picture the lofty Narcissa Malfoy walking into an Odeon theatre with her son in tow. Of course, things must’ve been simpler for the Malfoy’s back then, before the return of the Dark Lord, when they were just trying to ease their way back into wizarding society again.

“I’ve only ever been to the cinema once”, Harry admitted in return.

“But you were raised by muggles!”

“Yeah, well, my aunt and uncle never liked me very much, so they would leave me behind whenever they took my cousin Dudley. I only got to go that one time because the sitter cancelled last minute.”

“Guess that makes us even”, Draco said, letting his fingers brush against Harry’s back.

“Can I ask you something else?” Harry found himself saying. The mention of Draco’s family had stirred something in Harry’s brain.

Draco shrugged.

“What would your parents say if you told them – I mean, assuming you haven’t already – that you don’t like girls that way?”

Draco was silent for a moment.

“My family”, he said carefully. “Is very concerned with the continuation of our bloodline. As long as I still produce an heir with a pure-blood, I don’t think they’d care.”

“What if you don’t want to produce an heir with a pure-blood?”

“Then I’ll just have to look at as another thing I have to do – family obligation”, Draco said, his tone turning sharper, but at least he didn’t shrug Harry off.

They fell back into silence.

“It’s getting late”, Draco finally said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Well, there’s one more thing”, Harry said, lifting his head off Draco’s chest to study his face. “I was thinking that… eh… since I’ve been doing you, it’s about time that you… do me.”

He flushed to almost a Vernon-esque shade of purple at his own clumsy choice of words.

Draco didn’t seem to mind the lack of eloquence. “Okay”, he breathed.

Harry snuck a chaste kiss. “Next time.”

 

Next time had to wait, however. When Harry got back very late that night, he found Ron waiting for him in the otherwise empty common room.

“Where on earth have you been? It’s past midnight!” Ron hissed as Harry climbed through the portrait hole, scaring Harry so badly he almost fell back out again.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Harry said once he’d regained his balance.

“Maybe I am”, Ron muttered and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, where the hell were you? I thought you said you were going to the library.”

“Well, I did go to the library”, Harry lied. “Then on my way back I ran into Slughorn and he invited me to his office for… ehm… a game of chess and I thought I better say yes, to try and work that memory out of him, you know.”

Ron seemed to consider this for a moment. “Blimey”, he finally said. “And he kept you this late? We have classes tomorrow you know.”

“Yeah, well I figured I better just do what he wants, to get him on my side and all. Ehm, Ron, do you by any chance know if Hermione noticed I was gone? She’s been a bit snappy with me lately.”

That much was true. Hardly a day passed without Hermione nagging him about something. It was either Malfoy, Snape, the Half-Blood Prince, or how he was going to get Slughorn to give up his true memory of Riddle. Her favorite was, unnervingly enough, Harry’s constant disappearances. He could almost hear her already: ‘No one who spends as much time in the library as you supposedly do should be that behind on homework!’

Ron’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Hermione’s name. “When’s she not snappy? But nah, mate, I don’t think so. Think I saw her head up to bed early, after… you know.”

  
Harry knew all too well. He and Ron had been chatting about Quidditch when Lavender had come over to sit on Ron’s lap and kiss his neck in a way that made Harry – and anyone else that had to witness it – feel like he was watching the start of a pornographic film.

“She didn’t have to act like that in front of everyone”, Ron continued, speaking of Lavender, and even the tips of his ears had gone red.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think it was much worse than what you’ve been doing all year, although the sounds made me a bit queasy.”

Ron slapped the back of Harry’s head. “Oh, shut up. Come on, I need to sleep if I’m going to be able to put up with finding Ginny and Dean snogging after practice again tomorrow.”

 ***

After that, Harry thought it best to put off any sneaking around for a while. He even took the risk and told Draco as much by slipping a note into his cauldron at the end of one of their potions lessons, just to make sure Draco didn’t think Harry no longer wanted to do the thing he’d said he’d do. Lying Ron in the face didn’t feel right. However, it had to be preferable to Ron finding out about his actual whereabouts. He already knew how Ron would react – if he would even believe it. Harry had to remind himself that Ron’s feelings towards Malfoy, considering how he’d suffered insults from the entire Malfoy family all his life, were justified. Even so, he couldn't bare coming clean. He could imagine the disgusted look on Ron's face all too well. As for Hermione, he didn't think she'd receive the news all too well either.

***

One morning not too much later, Harry awoke to the sound of Ron’s roaring laughter.

“Have you gone mad?” Harry asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Or did someone cast a cheering charm on you, and if so please tell me who so I can personally feed them to the Giant Squid.”

“No”, Ron said, still sniggering. “It’s just… well, look.”

Harry looked around and finally saw what Ron was talking about. His bedframe had been decorated with large cut out paper hearts with Harry’s face and phrases like “Have a Harry Valentine’s day!” and “Love, laugh, Harry!” on them. To his horror, he also saw that rose petals had been strewn across his bed.

“Dobby”, Harry croaked, remembering how the elf had decorated the Room of Requirement in a similar manner for Christmas the year before.

“Just lovely, isn’t it?” Ron grinned. “You also got these”, he added, handing Harry a heart shaped box of chocolates.

Harry took the box. It looked store-bought, almost like the chocolate muggles got each other in films, except this one had a moving image of a witch and wizard blowing each other kisses. It didn’t really look like something Dobby would give him.

“Was there a note with this?” Harry asked, opening the box and seeing that Ron had already helped himself to it.

Ron shook his head. “Why, who do you think sent them?”

“Romilda Vane?” Harry said with a shrug.

“Maybe”, Ron said and reached out and snagged another piece. “Or maybe Luna, as a thank you for the Christmas party invite? Although I suppose it’s a bit late for that, and Looney Lovegood probably wouldn’t send chocolates to begin with. She’d send a rotten old beat and tell you it warded off Snotcrinkle Turdclanks or something like that.”

Harry laughed and glanced over to Ron’s bed. “Is that from Lavender?”

Ron was sitting on top of what looked like a teddy bear and as Ron disgruntledly moved away Harry saw the bear was holding a heart that shifted between saying “Won-Won loves Lav!” and “Lav loves her Won-Won!”

“Not a word to Hermione, alright? And uh, can I have those? I didn’t get Lavender anything and she will kill me.”

Harry dropped the chocolate he’d been about to eat back into the box. “But you’ve already eaten half of them!”

“Well, that can’t be helped now, can it?” Ron said cheerfully and stood up, dropping the bear on the floor. “Just think about how lonely you’d be without me, alright? And how horrible Quidditch would be if you had to bring McLaggen onto the team.”

He then proceeded to snatch the box from Harry and kick the bear underneath the bed. Before Harry could protest, he’d disappeared out of the room.

When Harry got down to the common room after having disposed of Dobby’s decorations, he caught sight of Ron disappearing out through the portrait hole, an angry looking Lavender heading back to the dormitories, and an unusually cheerful Hermione coming towards him.  
“Morning Harry, ready for breakfast?” She quipped before squinting at him. “Why do you have flower petals in your hair?”

***

Their first class for the day was potions. Once the three of them entered the classroom, they found it had been rearranged. The desks usually stood in groups of threes, but now they’d been split into pairs of twos. In the middle of the room stood a large cauldron, filled with a pearly white liquid that sent spirals of steam up towards the ceiling.

“Gather around, class, gather around”, Slughorn ushered as the class spilled into the room, waving them towards the cauldron. As they formed a circle around it, Slughorn continued. “Now, does anyone of you know what this is? Miss Granger?”  
Hermione’s hand had shot up before Slughorn had even finished the question. “Amortentia, sir. It’s the most powerful love potion in the world.”

“Very good! Can you tell me what its characteristics are?”

“The mother of pearl sheen, the spiraling steam, and most notably the scent. The aroma differs from person to person, depending on what you like or find attractive.”

“Very good, Miss Granger. 10 points to Gryffindor! Now, now, take a whiff, all of you.”

Harry leaned forward to inhale. The scent might have been the most pleasant thing he’d ever experienced, smelling of treacle tart, the wood of a broomstick handle, and something musky he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“So, for today’s class you are going to attempt to make Amortentia in pairs. It’s a tricky potion to master, so be aware that your first attempt might not be successful. Just like the infatuation it tries to mimic, it’s fickle and one simple mistake might ruin it. The ingredients need to be added in the right order, to the right amount, and at the right pace. Alright then, I trust you can manage to pair up yourselves.”

Ron and Hermione both reached for Harry at the same time, but Ron was faster. He grabbed Harry by the sleeve of his robes and pulled him back, almost sending him crashing to the floor. In an instant, everyone else had paired up, all except Hermione and…

“Ah, Miss Granger, looks like Mr. Malfoy will be your partner for today.” Slughorn said, pointing an angry looking Hermione towards an equally sour faced Draco.

She looked over at Ron, who whispered to Harry: “I think she might be part basilisk. I swear I lost all sensation in my left leg when she looked at me like that.”

Harry sniggered, but only for a moment. He was busy trying to catch Draco’s eyes to try and compel him to be nice to Hermione.

 

With some help from the Half-Blood Prince, Ron and Harry had managed to produce a passable love potion at the end of class. There hadn’t been too many notes on Amortentia though – apparently the Prince hadn’t been too interested in love potions – yet the imperfections were mostly due to their inability to prepare ingredients at a fast-enough pace. Slughorn seemed pleased with the result, despite their potion having a slightly burnt smell mixing in with the other aromas.

Harry had gotten so used to being the best in class that he almost felt offended when Slughorn stopped by Draco and Hermione’s cauldron and exclaimed: ”Wonderful, simply wonderful! It’s nearly perfect.”

After they were dismissed, a beaming Hermione caught up to Harry, who’d been fast to exit the classroom to avoid the conversation that inevitably would follow.

“See? The Prince isn’t unbeatable”, she said triumphantly. “They’re not the say all-be all of potions.”

Ron, who’d been in a strangely good mood since the fight with Lavender, turned and spoke directly to Hermione. “Yeah, how did you manage that, working with Malfoy and all?”

Harry thought Hermione must really be thrilled with the events of that morning, because her response didn’t contain the least bit of malice.

“Malfoy’s good at potions you know, it wasn’t all just ass kissing”, she said. Then she lowered her voice and glanced around. “He was actually being _nice_ to me. Not only was he not trying to be cruel, but he asked me how my holidays had been and if I’m still seeing McLaggen. He must’ve slipped and hit his head so hard he forgot who I am.”

Ron looked slightly sulky at the mention of McLaggen, but his interest in Malfoy’s odd behavior compelled him to carry on the conversation. “Maybe Myrtle gave him a _really_ nice Valentine’s gift.” He smirked and earned himself a slap to the back of the head from Hermione.

“That’s disgusting”, she said and stalked off, suddenly donning her cold attitude again.

“Oh well, that’s progress I suppose”, Ron said cheerfully as she disappeared around a corner. “Why do you think Malfoy acted that way? Don’t think he’s suddenly got a crush on her, do you?”

Harry almost stumbled. “Malfoy and Hermione?” he said, trying to feign the right amount of chock and disgust. “Now, _that’s_ disgusting.”

Ron chuckled. “Yeah, mate, that’s like… You and Parkinson. Or even better, you and Goyle.”

Harry laughed, pretending Ron hadn’t stumbled a bit too close to the truth for comfort.

 ***

After dinner that day, Draco sent him a message using the coin. Harry was dubious if he dared sneak away on Valentine’s day of all days, but then he found Ron and Lavender, who apparently had made up, feeding each other the rest of Harry’s chocolates in the common room, Hermione nowhere in sight, and felt it was safe after all.

“What’s this? No chocolate? No flowers? It is Valentine’s Day, after all, Potter”, Draco said in mock offence from where he lay splayed across the bed when Harry entered the Room of Requirement.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see you coming laden with gifts either, Malfoy.”

“What is this you accuse me of _now_? Didn’t you get the gift I sent you?”

It took Harry a moment to realize what Draco was talking about. “ _You_ sent me that chocolate?” He asked in disbelief.

“As a gag, of course. Don’t flatter yourself any more than you already do. So, did you eat it?”

At this, Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Ron ate it. Why? Shouldn’t he have?”

If Draco cared that his gift hadn’t been well received, he didn’t let it show. “ _I_ didn’t do anything to it, if that’s what you’re insinuating. It’s just, I gave it to a house elf to deliver it to you and that ugly old thing said something about maggots… Seemed senile, if you ask me. I don’t know why Dumbledore let’s unwashed ones like that prepare our food.”

Harry thought he knew which elf Draco was talking about, thinking back to the Christmas gift filled with maggots he’d received. Despite his ill feelings towards Kreacher he couldn’t stop himself from saying: “You shouldn’t talk about them like that. They are thinking creatures like any of us, perhaps more than the likes of some of your friends.”

Malfoy gave Harry a cold look and sat up. “Oh, right. I’d forgotten I was talking to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Friend of the House Elves – I’ve still not forgotten the way you stole ours, thank you very much. Is there another title you’d like me to add in there or is that enough for you?”

Harry was once again wondering why he was here with Malfoy to begin with.

“I didn’t _steal_ Dobby. He didn’t deserve to be enslaved to the likes of you.”

Malfoy frowned. “What exactly do you mean by ‘the likes of you’, Potter?” His voice was venomous, eyes burning.

Harry wasn’t one to back down, especially not when his friends were being insulted. He also couldn’t exclude that some of Hermione’s house elf fanaticism had rubbed off on him after all.

“Wizards that think they are above other beings because they happened to produce offspring with the right person, wizards who think that one’s blood status is more important than one’s actions.”

“And those are all opinions you assign to me?”

“’Assign to you?’ You’ve been spurting those things since the first time I met you, if you recall. Don’t act like I’m treating you unfairly.”

“What if I’ve had time to rethink some of that?” Draco said, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

“Well… Then prove it.” Harry replied after a moment of confusion.

He didn’t think it possible that Malfoy had actually changed, that he wasn’t just lying to get what he wanted. It was too ingrained in him, after all his family had been teaching him about pure-blood superiority since he was just a toddler.

“What?” Draco said, taken aback.

“Prove it”, Harry repeated more firmly this time.

“And how on earth do you suggest I do that?” Malfoy’s voice was cold.

Harry paused. It had to be something Malfoy would find utterly undignified, something he wouldn’t do so easily just to get back on Harry’s good side. Then it struck him.

“I know just how.”

 ***

They snuck down to the kitchens by hiding underneath the invisibility cloak. It was awkward being pressed so close together, especially since Draco was seething at Harry and refused to reply to Harry’s pointers and kindly suggestions.

“It better be a good apology”, Harry warned as he tickled the pear that would let them into the kitchens.

Draco only grunted in response and as soon as they’d gone through the magically appearing door he tore the cloak of and threw it to Harry. Harry lead the way down into the gigantic, high-ceilinged room. They hadn’t gotten far before a figure wearing a stack of hats and a knitted sweater, paired with unmatching socks, came charging at them.

“Harry Potter!” Dobby squealed. “Did you like the decorations Dobby put up for you?”

Dobby came to a sudden halt when he spotted Malfoy, and some of the hats went toppling off his head.

“What is Harry Potter doing with _him_?” Dobby shrieked.

“Ehm… Yes Dobby, I liked them very much”, Harry lied, thinking it was better to set an example for Malfoy rather than try and persuade Dobby never to decorate anything ever again. “We’re here to talk to you, that’s all.”e

“Dobby is very pleased!” The house-elf said, but without sounding so. His big eyes were set on Malfoy and Harry thought he’d never seen the elf look hostile before. “Harry Potter must forgive Dobby, but young master Malfoy is a very, very bad boy! Harry Potter shouldn’t be spending time with such vile wizards!”

Immediately after saying this, Dobby flung himself headfirst towards the fire, as if he was about to fling himself into the flames for having said such a thing about his former master. Harry had expected as much and seized Dobby around the waist and lifted the flailing elf into the air before he could get far.

“It’s alright, Dobby!” Harry said, grip still firm around the kicking elf. “Malfoy doesn’t mind if you speak ill of him, or his family, isn’t that so?” He shot Malfoy a stern look.

Malfoy looked like he did indeed mind, but after staring at Harry for a moment as if to assess whether he was truly being serious, he said: “That’s right, you can insult us however you want.”

Dobby stared at Draco with wide eyes and finally stopped fighting against Harry.

“Dobby”, Harry said carefully after setting him down. “We’re here because Malfoy wants to tell you something. All I ask is that you hear him out, alright?”

Dobby gave a slight nod.

Harry turned to Draco, who was staring down at Dobby’s dubious outfit. “Don’t you have something to say?”

Draco shot Harry a look. “Right…” He looked at Harry again and Harry pointedly stepped on his foot. “Right, right. Well. I guess… What I wanted to say is that I’m very sorry… ehm… for the way that my family and I… Treated you the years that you were… eh… in our service. We weren’t good masters and it was undignified of us, and cruel, and it was uncalled for. And… I’m very pleased that you seem to be happy now.”

This last bit sounded utterly insincere, but Harry thought it was a decent attempt, more than he’d expected. He ruefully wondered what Hermione would say if he convinced Draco to join S.P.E.W.

Dobby looked at Harry with wide eyes. “Is Master Malfoy ill, Harry Potter sir? He’s delirious!”

“What?” Draco said. “I’m not ill. I just thought I owed you an apology.”

Harry noted this blatant lie, but he didn’t see the need to point it out.

“Dobby needs to lie down”, Dobby said suddenly in a shrill panicked voice, looking rather pale.

Draco and Harry hauled Dobby to bed by grabbing one arm each. This only seemed to upset Dobby further, so at last Draco had to step out of the room. When Harry finally reappeared, Draco looked genuinely worried.

“So? Was it good enough?” He asked.

It’d been expecting too much to think Draco was concerned about Dobby’s wellbeing, Harry thought ruefully. “I guess so.”

“I’ve been nice to Granger and that… Dobby. That surely must count for something.”

They stepped out of the kitchens but stopped by the door that lead back into the hallway.

“It’s a start”, Harry said. “You’ve been a shit for six years and probably before that too, you can’t expect to make up for it all in one night.”

Draco shrugged. “So, what about… our plans?”

Color crept up Harry’s face. “It’s getting kind of late for that.”

Draco nodded and looked away, shoulders sagging slightly. Harry wondered if it had all been a ploy to get to sleep with him after all.

“I’m sorry, you know, for some of the things I’ve done and said to you. You didn’t deserve it.”

Harry was relieved Draco was staring at the floor and not at him. He was taken aback by this, he’d never expected, or much wanted, an apology from Draco. Especially one that sounded as if he really meant it. Not that it could compensate for the various deeds of varying cruelty Draco had partaken in over the years, but Harry thought it did show some of that remorse Draco had been claiming he felt. Perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t all lies.

Not knowing how to respond, Harry stretched out a hand and touched Draco’s face gently. Draco looked up, surprise written across his face. Before Harry knew it, he was leaning forward and kissing Draco softly on the lips. It took a moment, but then Draco wrapped his arms around Harry in an embrace. The soft flutter of lips felt different from the otherwise so hungry kisses they’d shared before. Gentle and slow. A brush of tongue against Harry’s lower lip sent shivers down his spine and stirred something that had been dormant in the pit of his stomach and he had to pull away.

Draco looked flushed but pleased. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back?”

“Positive”, Harry croaked.

***

Harry considered avoiding Draco after that, but it didn’t feel right. That thing he’d felt last time had frightened him as much as facing a basilisk. Wouldn’t it be cruel to act that way, to pull away when Draco had shown that he had a heart? In the end, Harry couldn’t resist arranging a meeting the following day.

Draco was already waiting when Harry got there.

“Today”, Draco said, pulling Harry towards him before the door had even shut behind him. “We’re not doing any talking.”

Harry was perfectly happy to let Draco push him up against the wall and kiss him. Draco seemed ravenous, his mouth deserting Harry’s after mere seconds to trail kisses down Harry’s neck. Then, Draco dropped to his knees and undid Harry’s belt.

“Missed me?” Harry asked teasingly.

Draco snorted and freed Harry’s already hard cock. “I’ve missed this.”

With those words, he took Harry into his mouth and Harry sank back against the wall.

They undressed quickly and fell onto the bed, kissing all the while.

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised”, Draco said, pulling away.

“I think it was more of a suggestion”, Harry replied, hand around Draco’s cock, but Draco only shrugged at this and kissed Harry again.

“But do you still want to?”

Draco’s hair was a mess from Harry’s fingers tangling in it, his lips swollen and eyes wide and expectant. Harry nodded. Yes, he very much still wanted to.

Draco moved down between Harry’s thighs, spreading Harry’s legs with a guiding hand. Slowly, Draco licked at Harry’s cock, making Harry bite his lips. His tongue then moved to Harry’s balls and then down where not even a finger had ventured before. Harry’s body tensed and he closed his eyes at the unfamiliar sensation of Draco’s tongue licking him _there,_ until the feeling that something terrible and unexpected would suddenly happen ebbed away and was replaced by one of pleasure. He let out a moan and opened his eyes to look down and saw that Draco was watching him, which immediately made Harry close his eyes again, but he couldn’t make himself keep quiet.

Once Draco was satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten, he exchanged his tongue for lubricant-coated fingers. He circled Harry’s wet entrance and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes shut for this. He looked at Draco, at the surprisingly tender look on his face where earlier there’d been hunger. Draco’s cock was hard and dripping at the sight of Harry laying before him.

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good”, Draco said as he slowly pushed one of his fingers into Harry, but it felt good.

Draco’s free hand was caressing the inside of Harry’s thigh, pushing a leg up before adding another finger. Wave’s of pleasure washed over Harry with every push and pull.

“Touch me”, Harry pleaded at last, rocking his hips slightly to bring attention to his abandoned dick.

Draco sniggered. “You should’ve let me do this a long time ago, if this is how bad you want it.”

His facial expression didn’t match his sneering tone. His lips formed a soft smile and the look he gave Harry was full of awe. Draco shifted forward and grabbed Harry’s cock and began stroking it as his fingers worked away. Harry’s breath quickened, and he couldn’t stop the moans from escaping his lips.

“Shit, I’ll come at this rate”, Harry finally admitted as the sensation building up deep within his stomach became too much to ignore.

Draco slowed down and leaned forward slightly so his half hard cock brushed against Harry’s thigh. “That would be disappointing.”

Harry nodded and beckoned Draco forward, so he could suck him hard again. Then, Draco moved back down and repositioned himself between Harry’s legs. Harry thought it would feel unnerving to submit to Draco in such a manner, but it felt natural, like everything they’d done had led them to the moment when Draco’s cock pushed against Harry. It didn’t feel like submitting at all, there was nothing demanding or domineering about the way Draco slowly moved inside of Harry, repeatedly asking if it felt okay. Harry nodded at this, pushing towards Draco, making him go faster and deeper. Draco gasped as his cock buried into Harry, moaned as he pulled away and pushed back in. Harry let go of the last bit of tension and immerged himself in the sensation of Draco’s throbbing dick pushing into him. Harry’s hand found its way to his cock and pumped in time with the strokes. He looked up at Draco, whose face was red, eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open. Just a few moments and Harry was coming, spilling onto his stomach, and then Draco was coming too, having pulled out so his seed mixed with Harry’s.

Draco fell onto the bed next to Harry. They lay there, panting, shoulder to shoulder. When Harry looked over, he found Draco staring at him, but when their eyes met Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry softly on the lips. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him closer, kissing him back.

“Draco?” Harry asked a while later.

Draco was lying next to Harry on the bed with his head resting on Harry’s chest.

“What?” he asked, looking up.

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

“What part of it?”

Harry turned slightly pink. “The last part. That you’re sorry.”

Draco sighed. “I suppose so.”

“For all of it?”

“Well, most of it. Not for leaving you on the train though.”

Harry sat up, making Draco shift away from him. “You broke my nose!”

Draco steadied himself on an elbow and reached out and ran a finger along Harry’s nose.

“It’s fine now, you sneaky little twat”, Draco said sourly. “What? You’re acting like I sent you into the jaws of a dragon. You would’ve only missed a day’s worth of classes, at worst.”

Harry, still seething a little bit, rolled on top of Draco and pinned him underneath him. “You’re the twat.”

With that he kissed Draco, long and hard.


	5. Lies Unfurling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February turns into March and Ron has the worst birthday of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

They fell back into a routine of meeting almost every night. Harry had gotten used to Malfoy’s mood changing faster than the budding spring weather. Some days, Draco was talkative, cracking jokes in his drawling way, while on other’s, he hardly said a word and would usher Harry out as soon as they’d finished their business.

Harry himself had trouble staying focused. Between meeting Draco, homework, quidditch, and maintaining his friendship with Ron and Hermione separately, he had little time to dwell on what Snape was up to or Dumbledore’s task to get Slughorn’s true memories, although Hermione wouldn’t let him forget about the latter. Even so, the conversation he’d heard between Draco and Snape was still burning at the back of his mind. A feeling of guilt would wash over him when he lay in bed, followed by the sensation he was focusing on entirely on the wrong things.

When March and Ron’s 17th birthday came around, Harry had hoped to get some respite from pin-balling between his two friends, thinking that this special occasion might create temporary peace. Instead, the day began with Ron eating the chocolates Harry had been given by Romilda Vane so long ago and ended in the hospital wing with a shaken Hermione and a crying Lavender sprawled across Ron’s hospital bed.

Harry knew in his gut who was responsible. He assumed the news of Ron’s poisoning had spread across the school, because Malfoy didn’t try to contact him and was even quicker than usual to disappear from the classes they shared together those following days. At last Harry tried to summon Malfoy himself, but he didn’t come to meet him in the Room of Requirement. The coward, Harry thought in anger and threw the coin across the room. He didn’t bother picking it up on his way out. He went back to checking the Marauder’s map regularly, but Malfoy kept to the dungeons or was nowhere to be found.

When he at last managed to get Malfoy on his own, Ron had been out of the hospital wing for days. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the library – if one good thing had come out of Ron almost dying it was that he and Hermione wordlessly had made up – catching up on another one of Snape’s lengthy essays. Harry hadn’t been able to keep his suspicions as to whom the culprit might be a secret in his rage, and his friends were once again looking at him like he was insane.

“I thought we were over this”, Hermione groaned. “Why would Malfoy want to poison Slughorn?”

Harry, who was just as sick of having this conversation as Hermione was, sighed. “As I’ve said, he meant to give that bottle to Dumbledore.”

“Anyone who’s met Slughorn knows he’d never give such a treasure away”, she retorted but without much heat.

“But Malfoy could well have given him the bottle before he knew him or had someone else do it for him.”

Hermione drew a deep breath and looked like she was about to sprint into a series of arguments as to why that was unlikely, but Ron intervened.

“Come on, let’s focus on this assignment and maybe we can go fly a short bit afterwards.” Ron smiled, wanting desperately to persevere their newly won peace.

Hermione seemed equally keen and swallowed what she’d been about to say without looking too disgruntled about it. Only Harry was still displeased. He snuck out the Marauder’s Map underneath the table under the pretense of going through some notes and finally saw him. Malfoy was in Myrtle’s bathroom.

Harry didn’t bother to gather up his things. He left it all on the table, tossing the map down underneath a book as he stood up.

“I just remembered that I have to go talk to Hagrid”, he lied, not even trying to come up with a plausible explanation.

With that, he rushed out of the room, leaving Ron and Hermione staring after him.

 

As he burst into the bathroom, he was immediately taken back to the similar events that had led up to his and Malfoy’s first meeting there. He’d rushed off in a similar manner then too, months ago. This time, however, Malfoy wasn’t surprised to see him.

“I’ve been trying to contact you”, was the first thing Malfoy said as Harry strode towards him.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “That’s funny, I was about to say the same thing.”

Malfoy at least had the decency to look ashamed. “I’m sorry”, he said.

Harry ignored this. “Did you poison Ron?” he asked flatly.

“I’ve never tried to hurt Weasley. Well, not recently at least.” He sounded confident but didn’t meet Harry’s gaze.

“Did you give Slughorn that bottle?” Harry rephrased, feeling sick of Malfoy’s games. This time, he’d get a straight answer, if he so had to force one out.

Malfoy stared at him for a while before nodding his head. “It was long ago, I didn’t mean, I didn’t try…”

So, there it was. The confession Harry had been obsessing over, but hoped he’d never hear. Harry wasn’t in the mood for any excuses, he didn’t want to hear whatever plausible defense Draco could come up with. It was Malfoy’s fault that Ron had almost died, and Harry could never forgive himself for looking past the proof he had of Draco’s involvement. He should’ve pressed further to find out what really had happened to Katie Bell and maybe this could’ve been prevented.

“And Katie? You made sure she got that necklace?”

Draco nodded.

“Why?” Harry continued.

“You know why”, Draco said matter-of-factly.

“No, I don’t know why you’d hurt anyone or what sort of evil thing you were trying to accomplish.”

“You know my family, you overheard Snape, you’ve seen what they’ve done to me. You’re not as stupid as you look, Potter. You know why.” He sounded as desperate, as if he was pleading in front of the entire Wizengamot.

Harry felt fresh anger wash over him. He’d expected Malfoy to get angry and scream or skirt the subject entirely, not to confess. He wanted an excuse to curse Malfoy, but Malfoy seemed determined not to give him one. Although Harry found that his wand was now clutched in his right hand – he didn’t know quite how that had happened – Malfoy had made no attempt to reach for his own. The word _sectumsempra_ came to mind and the phrase that was written underneath it in the Half-Blood Prince’s potions book: for enemies. Still, it felt premature for that, and Malfoy was still unarmed.

“Harry”, Draco said slowly, taking a step closer. Harry jerked at the use of his first name – until now it had been reserved for the most intense moments of passion.

“I gave Slughorn that bottle a long time ago. Months and months ago. You heard Snape, I stopped. I don’t want to be like that anymore, I’ve told – I’ve shown – you that.”

“If that was true you would’ve gotten the bottle back from Slughorn. You could’ve told Dumbledore, he would’ve understood and helped you.”

Malfoy shook his head. “He would’ve killed me and my family. Dumbledore trusts Snape, and Snape would’ve told _him._ There wouldn’t have been time. He would’ve punished her much worse than he’s already punished me.”

Harry felt oddly jarred at this, at Draco’s conviction of Snape’s allegiance to Voldemort. Up until now, he’d never talked to anyone who seemed more certain of this than he himself was. His wand slipped out of his hand and clattered against the tiles as it hit the floor.

“Even so, you could’ve done _something_! You’ve been lying to everyone, you’ve been manipulating me.” Harry raised his voice, trying to keep up the anger and keep away the pity from his voice as Malfoy crept closer, trembling slightly.

“Harry, _please_ ”, he pleaded. “The thing he wanted me to do, I stopped. I should’ve gotten that bottle back, but I didn’t.  I never meant for Weasley to drink it. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’m not that person anymore”, he repeated.

Draco was right in front of Harry now. He looked distressed, hands clasped in front of him like he was praying. He was pleading in a way Harry never would’ve thought he’d hear Malfoy plead, the arrogance gone. With a stab of pain, he was reminded of his mother’s final moments.

“Then what do you want?” Harry almost shouted, pushing the image of her out of his head.

Draco bit his lip and looked at Harry with a pained expression. “I want to be with you.”

Harry didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Perhaps for Malfoy to say he wanted to be a better person, but of course it wasn’t in Malfoy’s nature to want to be anything if there was nothing for him to gain by it. He wanted to renounce his family’s Death Eater ways because that was what it would take for Harry to accept him, Harry now understood. Yet the answer shocked him. He was a manipulative piece of shit, Harry had to remind himself. He only did things to get something in return. Even as he thought this, he was unable to fully repress the part of him that was screaming ‘I want to be with you too.’ He’d felt it at times when they’d been together, that lust for something more than pure physicality. That feeling that if this continued, that warmth that grew in the pit of his stomach would spread throughout his body and consume him. It petrified him.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t do anything when Draco tentatively reached out towards him. Perhaps that was why he let himself get pulled into Draco’s arms. He was fighting an internal battle between reason and wanting to push Draco against the wall and kiss him until his mind was blank. Draco took the choice from him as he reached down and touched his lips to Harry’s. It was easier to just give in and let Draco pull him close. Harry kissed back, that familiar warmth spreading as their lips clashed together. He tugged at Draco’s collar, ripping the top buttons off, but he wasn’t thinking anymore. Draco seemed to understand how crucial it was that they didn’t stop, because he didn’t say anything as the buttons tumbled to the floor, only intertwined them tighter together. Slowly, he backed Harry into a stall and kicked the door shut behind him, pushing Harry against the wall and sneaking a hand up underneath his shirt, mouths locked together at all times. Harry didn’t know how far it would’ve gone if Ron, closely followed by Hermione, hadn’t come crashing into the bathroom when he did.

 

The stall door flew open with a loud PANG! and Harry and Draco sprung apart. A jet of red light passed only inches above Draco’s head, only missing because Draco, in their sudden separation, had slipped and fallen to the floor.

“Get away from him you snake!” Ron screamed in anger.

“Ron, _no_!” Hermione called, having caught up to Ron and grabbed his arm.

Only then did Ron pause. He stared at Harry and Draco, at the disarrayed clothing, the tousled hair and swollen lips. Harry knew realization had dawned on him when Ron’s face turned the same shade of fiery red as his hair. Hermione in turn was staring down at her shoes. Not knowing what to do, Harry gave Draco a hand and the Slytherin scrambled to his feet.

“Go”, Harry said quietly as he pulled Draco up.

Draco didn’t need to be told twice; without even bothering to rearrange his clothing he rushed past Ron and Hermione and out into the corridor, leaving the three friends in silence.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing with _him?_ ” Ron finally spurted out.

Harry didn’t know what to say. The anger in Ron’s voice was unmistakable, and Harry couldn’t blame him. After all, Harry had just accused Malfoy of poisoning Ron to his face, and then, minutes later, Ron found them like that? He knew how it looked, what it was: betrayal.

“You’re doing _that_ with Malfoy? You’re sno-”, but Ron broke off, looking away in disgust.

“I’m sorry”, was all Harry could think to say.

“Oh, Harry”, Hermione said in an exasperated tone. “What about all the things you’ve said about Malfoy? Was it all to cover up this?” She waved a hand around frantically.

Harry couldn’t meet her eyes. “No. He admitted it. He gave Slughorn that bottle.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “He admitted it?”

Harry nodded. “Not that anyone will truly believe it if I tell them.”

With a stab of fresh anger, Harry thought of Dumbledore’s dismissal when Harry had presented evidence in the past.

Ron’s face was gradually growing paler, until all color had drained from his cheeks.

“So you knew he did it, and still we find you two sno-”, again he broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Harry felt the need to at least explain himself, to try and convince his friends – and himself – that it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

“He said it was a long time ago. He said that he doesn’t want to do those things anymore”, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough to justify what he’d done.

“And you believed that?” Hermione said skeptically. “Don’t you think he only said that to win you over?”  
Harry shrugged. Of course he’d thought of that, he wanted to shout, but he couldn’t blame his friends for their less than thrilled reaction. He shared their suspicion after all.

“I don’t know”, he settled on. “Maybe. I don’t know what to think. It all just sort of happened.”

He did know this: Malfoy had stopped sneaking around. The conversation with Snape proved as much. Then, Harry suddenly thought back on how Malfoy had been disappearing over Christmas break and even at times after that. Harry hadn’t been checking the map often enough lately to be able to say that Malfoy had given up his plan – whatever it was – entirely and feel certain of it. Suddenly he felt even less sure of Malfoy’s intentions than he had before.

“How long ‘has it all just sort of happened for’?” Ron said dryly.

When Harry confessed it had been months, Ron said he had to sit down.

“Hermione thought you might be seeing Cho again.”

He held his head in his hands, but the anger seemed to have been somewhat subdued by the onset of shock.

“How did you find us?” Harry ventured to ask.

Hermione pulled out the map from her robes and handed it to him.

“You left this with your things. We thought it was odd how you just ran off and wanted to see where you were going”, she explained.

“We thought you might try and duel him”, Ron added. “But I guess you still might have, though it wouldn’t have been in the way we thought.”

This earned him a sharp look from Hermione and had Harry’s cheeks flush red.

 

They talked for what seemed like hours and Harry was forced to answer all their questions. Ron’s especially grew more prying, and Harry suddenly felt more compassion for Hermione and Ginny, who’d been forced to put up with Ron scrutinizing their relationships for the last few years. When Ron at last asked who’d done what to who, Hermione was the one to intervene.

“ _Ron_!” she gasped. “That’s enough!”

At this, Ron did look embarrassed and mumbled a “sorry” underneath his breath. Shortly after, he excused himself and when he left he refused to look Harry in the eye.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment.

“You were behaving so strangely. I knew something was going on with you, but I didn’t imagine it was Malfoy. I should’ve, of course, now that I'm looking back at it the clues were all there, right underneath my nose. And you’ve always been obsessed with him.”

“Because he was a jerk”, Harry said defensively, but at Hermione’s raised eyebrow he relented. “Fine. Perhaps a bit, but I mean, I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know how it even happened, really.”

But of course it wasn’t true. Perhaps it had been at first, but the momentary confusion had turned into deliberate action. Again and again, he’d made the choice to continue on. Again and again, he’d just accepted what Draco had told him. He’d been perfectly willing to be led astray because he’d given into lust and to something else too, something that was pointless to name now that he knew it could never happen again.

“You could’ve told me, you know. You didn’t have to lie”, Hermione said in a hurt tone.

“Could I really?”

“Yes”, she said firmly. “I mean, I wouldn’t have been thrilled, but I think it would’ve been good for you to have someone to talk to about what you were feeling.”  
Harry didn’t really want to focus on what he was feeling that very moment, so he squeezed her shoulder and said: “I think you’re right, look what a mess it all turned into.”

It was only now he realized that not feeling comfortable in telling Ron and Hermione about it should’ve been the first clue that what he was doing wasn’t entirely right.

She smiled tentatively at him. “Come on, let’s find Ron, before Lavender does.”


	6. Sectumsempra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

Perhaps some outside intervention was exactly what Harry needed. He’d known that his and Malfoy’s arrangement wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny, but his friends’ disapproval made it easier for Harry to see Malfoy’s true intentions. Malfoy was a skilled manipulator and a liar, and he’d only said and done things to get Harry to do what he wanted. That much seemed obvious now, and Harry cursed himself for ever having believed the Slytherin.

He tried to make up for the last few months by immersing himself in work. He caught up on all his schoolwork, focused on quidditch, and with some help Felix Felicis he even managed to complete Dumbledore’s task. They refrained from saying Malfoy’s name. Ron and Lavender broke up and Ron cheerfully started talking to Harry about what girls they should date next, to Harry’s bewildered amusement. Time passed by in a blur and he could barely spare Draco a thought. In class he ignored the other boy, even though he could feel Draco staring at him.

Even so, there was still a strain in his relationship with Ron. Those first few days, Ron would hardly look at Harry. He could feel the unasked questions hanging in the air between them. If he reached out, he thought he could cut through the tension like water. He wanted to say that he was sorry, he wanted to scream it until he was hoarse, but what good would it do? Although he knew Malfoy was the one responsible for Ron almost dying, he’d still gone ahead and kissed him. Harry knew that in itself was unforgivable, but then you also had to take all the lies into account. He tried to think that his actions could be at least partially justified by his lack of proof before the confession, but it felt dishonest. He’d been so suspicious at the beginning - why had he let himself been lulled into comfort? Why had he let himself be seduced? Was he truly so deprived of physical attention? Did he really crave intimate caresses that badly? He didn’t think so. The only other explanation was that feeling he’d felt even during the last meeting, the one that set his limbs ablaze and made his head fog up...

He had to shut his brain off. He didn’t want to think of it any longer and explaining it to Ron seemed impossible.

 

Even so, Harry tried talking to Ron about it when the tense silence between them became unbearable.

“Ron”, Harry said once the two of them were alone in the changing room after quidditch practice one evening. “Could we talk?”

Ron shrugged and turned away to fold up his quidditch robes. “Go on, then.”

“I - I don’t like it, how things are, I mean”, Harry stumbled and wished he’d prepared what to say. “I know it’s my fault, but… I don’t know what I can do to make it better.”

Ron sighed. “I know that you didn’t know about the poisoned bottle, and you didn’t know for sure he was the one who hurt Katie, it’s just… You were spouting shit about Malfoy before the schoolyear even started, and then you just went ahead and did _that_. And then, when you did know, you still went on like it didn’t matter.”

“It wasn’t like that. It’s just, he started saying all these things and I just froze up and he came up to me and...”

“What happened, happened”, Ron filled in. “I know, Harry. It’s a lot to process, that’s all. Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t turn him into a frog the first time he came at you.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. In hindsight, it seemed like the obvious course of action. He hadn’t been thinking then either, just acting on his instincts that told him to kiss back. Then of course, there had been the second time, and the third, and the fourth, and so on, and he’d deliberately gone back. Perhaps it was the sixth year stress that had finally worn him down, or, he had to entertain the possibility, he’d done it because he wanted to, and he hadn’t cared to think too hard about the consequences.

“Harry”, Ron said when Harry didn’t respond. “Just give it time. Sometimes that kind of stuff”, he made a sexual hand gesture in the air that made Harry blush, “just gets the better of us. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore, the image makes me want to puke.”  
Harry didn’t know if this last bit was truly meant to be humorous, but he let out a little laugh nonetheless.

 

Hermione, on the other hand, was as talkative as ever. Although she went on like nothing had happened, he could still feel a shift in her too. It became evident in how she started missing things when she corrected his homework, and when he got it back with the mistakes marked in red ink, she’d act surprised and frown and apologize to him for not being thorough enough. When they passed around dishes at dinner, she’d send them away from him, even though she must’ve heard him ask her to pass them to him. In the library, she’d get up and look for a book and not be back for thirty minutes, laughing and saying she’d found an interesting book and lost track of time.

Those little things were nothing alone, but together they wove a net of small passive aggressions that made it clear all was not well with her either. Even so, he almost preferred those episodes to the way he saw her looking at him sometimes - like she was expecting him to break down at any moment.

She didn’t bring Malfoy up either, although he thought it was to spare him. Her eyes were always on Harry when they had classes with the Slytherins and curiosity practically oozed from her. She’d cast sidelong glances at Harry and raise her eyebrows knowingly whenever he as much as breathed in Malfoy’s direction. At the end of those classes, she’d grab Harry and Ron by the arms and drag them out together.

***

Harry became increasingly aware that Malfoy was trying to get him alone. He wouldn’t let that happen. Harry had been forced to admit that he was weak to Draco’s pleas, and he didn’t want to risk being manipulated again. He stuck close to Ron and Hermione; Draco didn’t seem willing to talk to Harry when anyone else was around. This strategy worked for weeks, until the final quidditch game of the season approached. It would decide who’d win the House Cup, and Ron was even more nervous than usual. He’d snuck away to throw up between classes, as he so often did, and Hermione had said she needed to discuss her latest Arithmancy exam with Professor Vector and run off, just outside Snape’s classroom, leaving Harry alone and vulnerable.

It wasn’t long before Harry realized that Malfoy was following him. He quickened his pace and took a couple of odd turns to try and shake him off. He went in the opposite direction from his next class, down instead of up, and at last he ducked into an old bathroom. It was with an odd sense of irony he realized his path had taken him to the second floor, to Myrtle’s bathroom. Sighing to himself, he went up to the sink and washed beads of sweat off his forehead.

 

He waited, but nothing happened. Perhaps he’d managed to shake Malfoy off. He took out his wand and was just about to get the Marauder’s map when the door flung open behind him. He saw Draco’s pale face through the cracked mirror above the sink. Harry wheeled around, wand still in hand. Draco stared at him for a fraction of a second before whipping his own wand out and pointing it at Harry.

It was as if the last few months hadn’t happened. In Draco’s stern face, Harry saw the boy who’d tried to get Buckbeak executed. He saw the boy who’d tried to get Hagrid sacked. The boy who’d helped Umbridge. The boy who’d poisoned Ron. He raised his wand higher, to a true dueling position, but Draco didn’t wait for him to get ready. A silent hex flew through the room, hitting the mirror behind Harry as he flung himself out of the way. _Levicorpus!_ Harry thought and flicked his wand, but Draco parried. Suddenly he heard screaming and Myrtle came bursting out of a toilet stall, yelling at them to stop. A trash can exploded right by Harry, and when Harry retorted and missed, a toilet bowl was shattered, causing Myrtle to cry even louder. Water spurted out in jets, adding to the confusion.

Draco’s face was contorted with rage and he screamed “Cruc-”, but Harry was faster.

_“Sectumsempra!”_ He cried, waving his wand furiously.

Draco stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest. Then, his knees gave in and he fell onto his back. Blood spurted from his chest, turning the water on the floor scarlet in an instant. It looked like he’d been slashed with a sword.

 

_No, no, no, no,_ was all Harry could think as he rushed forward and fell to his knees next to Draco’s body. Draco’s arms lay flat against his sides, but he was twitching and shaking uncontrollably.

“I didn’t mean to”, Harry croaked, but Draco’s eyes were shut tightly, and he gave no indication he could hear Harry. 

He was losing too much blood. In desperation, Harry pressed his hands against the gash across Draco’s chest. It was something he’d seen on muggle television and the only thing he could think to do. He knew it wouldn’t stop the bleeding, but he didn’t know a thing about healing magic. He was vaguely aware of Myrtle wailing behind him, her cries growing louder and louder.

“Bloody murder!” he heard her screaming, but her voice seemed distant.

He pushed down harder, but the bleeding continued. Blood welled up between his fingers and stained his shirtsleeves. The shaking wouldn’t stop, and Harry could feel himself tremble too. Draco’s face grew paler by the second and then, suddenly, he grew limp.

“No!” Harry called.

Then, he was being dragged away from Draco by the collar. He looked up and saw Snape’s white face and pointy nose and was, for the first time in his life, relieved to see him. Harry scrambled out of the way and Snape knelt beside Draco’s lifeless form. He pulled out his wand and chanted as he moved it over the wounds. After what felt like forever, they started to close up. Then Draco’s eyes opened. His breathing was rapid as he sat up and there was no color in his face. He stared at Harry with expressionless eyes. Then, Snape stepped between them and broke their lines of vision.

“You must get to the hospital wing right away. With dittany, scarring might be prevented”, Snape said and helped Draco up onto his feet and Draco draped an arm around the professor’s shoulders.

“You”, Snape continued, turning his now cold eyes onto Harry. “You stay right where you are.”

Harry did as he was told. He sat on the floor, staring at his bloody hands until his vision was clouded by tears.

***

Harry crept out of his bed well after midnight. He pulled on his invisibility cloak and tiptoed past his snoring roommates, down the stairs and through the portrait hole. He didn’t see anyone on his way to the hospital wing, even Peeves seemed to be quiet. Draco’s bed was the only one occupied. Harry stood beside it for a while, staring down at the sleeping Draco. He was wearing a set of pajamas, but the shirt was unbuttoned and exposed his bandage-wrapped chest. Harry was about to go – he’d only wanted to see that Draco was still breathing with his own two eyes – but as he took a step back, the floorboards creaked, and Draco’s eyes opened slightly.

“Potter?” Draco said uncertainly into thin air, having looked around the seemingly empty room.

Harry hesitated for a moment before he let the cloak slip.

“I’m here”, he said softly.

Draco stared at him, then he closed his eyes. “Sit.”

Harry sank down on the chair next to Draco’s bed and edged it a bit closer. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry whispered:

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what that spell did, I shouldn’t have used it.”

“No”, Draco agreed, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry too.”

“Will there be scarring?”

Draco shrugged and winced in pain. “Madam Pomfrey gave me dittany, but she said I’d likely still get a mark. What does another scar matter?”

Despite Draco’s dismissal, Harry still wrenched his hands guiltily.

“Malfoy”, Harry started, then changed his mind. “Draco. We can’t keep doing this. It’s only making things harder.”

“This? Fighting in bathrooms, you mean?”

“No. You know what I mean.”

Draco didn’t say anything for a long while, and when he finally spoke, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to anyone else.

“I’ve been distracted”, he said so quietly it was almost inaudible. Then he looked over at Harry. “If that’s what you want, then go. I won’t chase after you again.”

Harry stood. For a moment he wavered. He thought of sitting back down, stroking Draco’s hair, brushing their lips together, but of course he couldn’t do that. Instead he settled for squeezing Draco’s shoulder lightly, before pulling on the cloak and heading back for Gryffindor tower.


	7. The Astronomy Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

Draco kept his promise. It was days before he returned to class, but when he did he didn’t as much as glance in Harry’s direction. Harry had to fight the urge to check Draco’s whereabouts through the Marauder’s map. He figured it would be easier to move on that way. For the first time, their separation felt final, and he couldn’t help feeling gloomy about it. He thought Ron and Hermione noticed; they shot each other worried glances whenever Harry picked at his food or went to bed early, but they never said a word about it. He wanted to tell them that he’d gone to see Malfoy, but he couldn’t bear their renewed disapproval.

When he’d told them about what had happened, Hermione had immediately started smearing The Prince. Ron had said Malfoy deserved it and almost seemed relieved, like Harry had proven that he’d gone back to hating Malfoy once and for all.

“I’m not saying I approve of the spell, but he was about to use an unforgivable curse, and it’s not like you knew you’d almost kill him. I say he had it coming”, Ron declared and slapped the not-too-reassured Harry on the back.

If Harry hadn’t gotten himself detention for their final quidditch game, he thought Ron might’ve congratulated him for what he did.

*** 

“Has something happened?”

Dumbledore studied Harry with a calm and steady gaze.

“No”, Harry lied.

“You’ve never been good at occlumency, Harry.”

Harry’s head was spinning. He didn’t know where to start. Should he explain what Trelawney had told him when he first ran into her, or what she’d said when he left her in a corridor? Should he tell Dumbledore all the things he knew about Malfoy – although he’d been explicitly forbidden to bring it up – or question him about Snape – another topic Dumbledore had grown weary of. In the end, he had to give into the burning feeling of rage.

“Snape!” Harry spat. “He’s the one who told Voldemort of the prophecy!”

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change, but Harry thought his lined face perhaps looked a bit pale. Their discussion went on for a minute, before Dumbledore ended it by saying: “I trust Severus Snape completely.”

Harry was still boiling with rage. “You shouldn’t! He’s helped Malfoy with something, and now they’ve done it and… He was cheering, in the Room of Requirement. He’s succeeded, and he did curse Katie, and Ron…” He was rambling, and he knew that Dumbledore wouldn’t respond well to it. The headmaster had already scolded him for his accusation during their previous meetings. “I know he’s responsible, sir! He told me.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Why has Draco confided in you, Harry?”

Harry’s face turned scarlet. He’d thought of telling Dumbledore everything before, but he’d always faltered when he’d reached this part of their imagined conversation.

“He just did”, Harry said and looked at the floor rather than at Dumbledore’s face. He could feel the old man’s eyes studying him, piercing through him, and felt a fresh wave of anger. “Anyway, Malfoy’s succeeded and now you’re going to leave the school without even…” But he didn’t get to finish the sentence.

“That’s enough!” Dumbledore said. His voice was calm, but Harry still understood he’d crossed a line.

***

“No, _listen to me!_ ” Harry said in exasperation.

He pushed the Marauder’s map and the remainder of the Felix Felicis potion into Hermione’s hands just as she was about to protest again.

“I heard Malfoy cheering. Or rather, Trelawney heard him, but I know it doesn’t bode well. Dumbledore will be gone tonight and that means Malfoy’s free to put this plan into work. He’s told me repeatedly that there’s something he must do, and whatever it is, he’s done it!”

Ron and Hermione still looked skeptical.

“You said that he told you he’d stopped”, Hermione said.

“And you told me I couldn’t trust a word he says!” Harry retorted. “Besides, that’s all a long way back now and who knows what might’ve happened since.”

They fell silent.

“Watch Malfoy, and Snape. He’ll know what sort of protections Dumbledore’s placed over castle.”

“But, Harry”, Hermione began again, sounding terrified.

“Please, Hermione. I don’t have time to discuss this further.”

His friends exchanged a look. Then they agreed.

***

Harry was standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, tilted against the wall, unable to move. Above him the dark mark glowed ominously, casting a green light around them. He watched as Dumbledore’s wand flew in an arch through the air and tumbled towards the ground far below.

“Good evening, Draco”, the headmaster said calmly.

Malfoy was looking around, his eyes darting over the place where Harry stood hidden underneath the invisibility cloak several times. Two brooms lay on the stone next to Dumbledore, and Malfoy could see as much. Harry wondered if Draco suspected he was there, but if he did, he was willing to let Dumbledore distract him with questions of his own.

Harry was shocked to learn there were Death Eaters in the castle, but Dumbledore didn’t reveal the slightest bit of emotion.

“They will be joining us shortly, I imagine”, Draco said. “As soon as they’ve disposed of your guards. I had to go ahead. I have a different task, you see.”

Dumbledore held Draco’s gaze steadily although he was slumping against the tower wall. “Ah, yes, the members of the Order of the Phoenix are here tonight. Then it’s best you see to it.”

Draco’s wand was pointing at Dumbledore, but his hand was shaking. He glanced around again, as if he expected someone to jump out from the shadows. Harry fought against his invisible constraints, but it was of no use. Dumbledore smiled.

“You’re not a murderer, Draco.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done, or what I will do”, Draco spurted angrily.

Dumbledore seemed to surprise them both by listing Draco’s crimes.

“Your attempts seemed feeble, I have to say. Like your heart wasn’t in it. After all, there was little chance of either of the two packages ever reaching me, and bad luck anyone else got hurt.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been working towards this for the better part of a year, of course I wanted to succeed.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “’The better part of a year’?”

Draco grimaced. “I was weak, but the Dark Lord won’t care about that after tonight.”

“Oh, yes, the Death Eaters”, Dumbledore said, as if it was possible to forget about them. “I must admit that I didn’t think it was possible to get Death Eaters into the castle. How did you manage that, if I may ask?” He almost sounded proud now, as if Draco had discovered another twelve uses of dragon’s blood, or something of the like.

Draco seemed almost relieved for this excuse to stall. His hand was still trembling, Harry noted. His skin looked greenish, perhaps because of the Dark Mark still burning in the sky above.

“It wasn’t easy to figure out how to do it”, Malfoy began. “At first, I ventured into the Chamber of Secrets. The Dark Lord had told me how to get in, but it was a dead end.”

Harry hadn’t been entirely wrong after all, although it brought him no joy.

“I wasted time searching it, but I had another plan. Last year Montague got stuck in that old vanishing cabinet, and he told me he was trapped somewhere between Borgin & Burkes and Hogwarts.”

Malfoy then went on to tell the story of how he’d realized one could pass between the two places through the cabinet, and how he’d struggled to mend it.

“It wasn’t easy to manage it, at times it seemed impossible… Even so, I could’ve finished long ago if I hadn’t gotten … distracted”, Draco admitted. “But I understand now, there’s no use in fighting any of this. It must be this way. I have to do it.”

Dumbledore assured him he mustn’t do anything at all, but Draco only scoffed. He continued, talking about the help he’d had from Snape and how he’d used the Imperius curse on Rosmerta. Harry felt a stab of _something_ at learning Draco had communicated with her in the same way he’d done with Harry.

“I got the idea from that girl Granger”, Draco admitted about the poisoned mead. “I overheard her saying Filch can’t tell different potions from each other.”

“She is very bright”, Dumbledore said with a nod of his head.

“But that’s it”, Draco finally said. “Rosmerta let me know you’d left the school, and I brought in the Death Eaters. And soon you’ll be dead.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Draco”, Dumbledore said softly, slipping further down the wall he was leaning against. Harry wondered if Draco realized just how weak Dumbledore was. “You’ve had a long time to kill me, yet you haven’t done it.”

“I will!” Draco said, pointing his wand at Dumbledore’s heart, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was the headmaster. “Someone is already dead, there’s no turning back from this.”

Harry’s heart sank. By the tone of Draco’s voice, Harry was certain it was someone fighting on the Order’s side. For a painful moment he saw Ron and Hermione’s unmoving bodies lying on the stone floor before pushing the image out of his head. He could hear the once distant sounds of fighting growing closer.

Dumbledore bowed his head. “That isn’t true, Draco. You always have a choice. I’ve not confronted you before, because I knew Lord Voldemort would kill you if he knew I suspected you, but I’ve known that you’ve been meaning to kill me for a long time. It’s a difficult position for such a young man to be in.”

Draco shivered at the mention of the name. “I _don’t_ have a choice. The Dark Lord doesn’t give you choices. I thought maybe it didn’t have to come to this, but I was wrong. I’ve come too far not to go through with it.”

“There’s still time for you to come around, Draco. So far you haven’t done anything that can’t be undone. You haven’t hurt anyone, although that’s mostly due to sheer luck for your unintended victims.”

Draco shook his head furiously. “No! I have to do this, or he will kill me and my family.”

“We can protect you and your family. We have more resources than you know. We can send someone for your mother this evening.”

“It’s too late. There is no hiding from _him_ ”, he said, and fear was written across his face.

Harry thought of the scars on Draco’s back and grimaced, or he would have, if he could move his face.

“You are at my mercy now”, Draco continued, but he was shaking so badly he had trouble pointing his wand. “I have the wand, I have power over you.”

“No”, Dumbledore whispered softly and sagged a little even as he said so. “No, Draco. You’re the one at my mercy.”

Draco swallowed and stared. He didn’t say a word. Then lowered his wand slightly. Suddenly, the door burst open and Draco was flung to the side as Death Eaters spilled out onto the ramparts.

Merely minutes later, Snape’s killing curse hit Dumbledore in the chest. Dumbledore’s body lifted into the air and hovered for a moment, before it fell in an almost gracious arch, plummeting to the ground below.

***

After the funeral, Harry went down to sit by the lake. He’d thought he wanted to be alone, but when Ron and Hermione came to join him, he found he was glad to have their company. They sat together by the shore, staring out across the water. Hermione burst into tears and buried her face in Ron’s shoulder and he slipped an arm around her like it was nothing.

“Maybe, I could have stopped it”, Harry said when Hermione’s sobs subsided.

He told them about visiting the hospital wing. They already knew everything that had been said at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

“If I hadn’t said we were through, then perhaps, he wouldn’t have gone through with it. If I’d tried harder to set him straight, perhaps...”

“No”, Ron interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. If he wanted to do better, he could’ve accepted help when you offered it.”

“Ron’s right, Harry”, Hermione said, wiping her eyes. “If he truly wanted to prove that to you, he could’ve. To me it seems that he was playing both sides, and when he knew he’d no longer get anything from you, he chose to go on with the Death Eaters.”

Harry was silent. They hadn’t heard the desperation in Draco’s voice, hadn’t seen him trembling, or lowering his wand. To Harry it seemed clear that Draco was aware that his actions were closing in on evil, but that he felt compelled by family obligation, fear, and perhaps destiny, to walk that path. Like Harry was compelled to walk his own. Even so, Draco could have chosen differently, or at least done if faster. In the end, Snape was the one Harry truly hated.

“I guess”, was all he said.

“You did the best you could”, Ron said, and Hermione agreed.

Harry turned to them. “I won’t be coming back next year”, he said.

He told them of his plan for the following year, how he was going to search for Horcruxes and perhaps go to Godric’s Hollow.

“I knew you’d say something like that”, Ron said when Harry finished. “We’re coming with you.”

Harry tried to explain the dangers of the journey ahead and to persuade them to stay at Hogwarts, but his friends held their ground.

“Where you go, we go”, Ron said and there was such finality in his voice that Harry swallowed his protests.

They stayed a while longer, watching the sun make its way across the sky. For the first time in forever, despite everything that had happened, he felt that all was right between them, and he was glad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far the hardest chapter to write. I've written and re-written it a thousand times over. Don't fret, though, I will continue this through the Deathly Hallows as well (I wasn't originally going to, but ending it here just felt too mean.)


	8. Malfoy Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, and Hermione have set out on their search for horcruxes. At present, they're gathering their strength at Bill and Fleur's, but Harry can't help but go back to the events that took them there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic alters certain bits of the Half-Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows. The parts not mentioned should be read as being the same.

Harry stood by Dobby’s grave and looked out across the sea as waves came crashing against the rocky shore, a salty spray blowing into his face. He’d spent hours out on the cliffs already, just to escape the crowded indoors. Fleur was a ticking bomb, hissing and spitting at anyone who got in her way, and the goblin Griphook made his presence known wherever Harry went. It was with heavy footsteps that he turned around and walked back towards Shell Cottage. He’d barely gone through the door when Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him away to the small bedroom she shared with Luna, where Griphook wouldn’t overhear them. Ron was already there waiting for him.

“We’re almost ready”, she declared proudly after she’d gone through the details of their plan once more.

She began distributing bottles of Polyjuice potions between them and marked them on an inventory list. At last she pulled out Bellatrix’ wand with a look of disgust and held it between her fingertips, as if she was afraid it might bite her.

“Will those wands work for you?” she asked for the thousandth time.

Ron pulled out Wormtail’s wand and waved it into the air, making the bottles of Polyjuice potion lift off the bed where Hermione had laid them out.

“Ron!” she said reproachfully. “That’s the last of our stores!”

Ron let the potions sink back down and grinned. “Wand works though.”

She rolled her eyes at him and turned to Harry.

Harry had his wand resting against his palm. Of course, it wasn’t truly his wand – that was tucked away safely in the pouch Hagrid had given him. It was the hawthorn wand with the unicorn core. Draco’s wand. He’d won it, so it obeyed him. Even so, using it made him uneasy. What had happened to Draco after they escaped? Nothing pleasant, he was certain.

***

When Harry had realized the Snatchers were taking them to Malfoy Manor, he hadn’t been pleased. He’d been worried, primarily about how on earth they might get away, but he’d also felt his stomach drop when he realized it was Easter and Draco probably was at home. He hadn’t seen the Slytherin since the night Dumbledore died and Snape hauled Malfoy off to safety.

Not having seen him wasn’t the same as not having thought about him. The search for horcruxes had left Harry with a lot of time to fill. So much of their time had been spent aimlessly wandering, not even certain what they were searching for. It had been hard to keep his mind from wandering onto more and less pleasurable things. Draco’s crooked smile and stifled laugh as he beckoned Harry closer, the curve of his back, and his pale thighs had all made their ways into Harry’s dreams. He’d woken up flushed and warm and praying Ron and Hermione were still asleep on more than one occasion. He was used to dreaming vividly, but not of such things. Draco’s narrowed grey eyes, his shaking hands and sneeringly cruel voice had also come to Harry at times, sending a wave of heat of an entirely different sort through his body. He’d wondered which one would hit him the hardest when they met again.

 

When he first heard Narcissa Malfoy’s cool voice, he went stiff and kept his eyes to the ground. He could feel her gaze on him but didn’t dare to look back at her. Her face came close to his, but his features were so distorted by Hermione’s Stinging Hex it would be hard for someone who knew him well to recognize him, and she’d only met him a few times. She pulled up again and turned to the impatient Fenrir Greyback and spoke the words Harry so dreaded:

“My son Draco is here for Easter. If this truly is Harry Potter, he will be able to tell us.”

They were herded further into Malfoy Manor, to the drawing room. The grand room had dark red walls clad with portraits Harry had to assume were previous generations of Malfoy’s, based on their blonde hair and the air of distaste they all emitted as the prisoners were led through their halls. Harry’s eyes were swollen, but he could see well enough to take in the grandeur of the place. The fireplace was bristling with yellow flames that lighted up the giant chandelier that hung from the ceiling, the crystal casting specks of light across the room. Lucius Malfoy’s drawling voice reached Harry’s ears and he went cold. How they would get out of there alive, before any of the Death Eaters managed to summon Voldemort, he could scarcely imagine.

“Now, what’s this commotion?” Lucius asked and rose from his seat by the marble fireplace.

Panic was descending on Harry now, his only relief was that fear made it easier to keep the images of Voldemort, screaming in fury at a huddled figure somewhere far away, out of his head.

“They claim to have captured Potter”, Narcissa said and Harry was shoved forward by Greyback. He stumbled – he was still bound to the others and couldn’t move much more than a few steps forward – but managed to stay upright. “Draco, dear, come here and have a look.”

Harry stared straight forward. There was a mirror above the fireplace and in it he saw himself, only he could hardly believe it. His face was blown up like a balloon, his eyelids puffy and lips enlarged and stretched out across his cheeks. His nose looked like it been broken thrice over. His hair was still dark, but much longer than he’d ever worn it at school. Only the green of his eyes remained the same. Even so, he didn’t dare hope that Draco, with whom he’d spent hours and hours, wouldn’t recognize him.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Draco rising from the armchair next to Lucius’. He couldn’t help but turn his gaze to the ground as the blonde boy slowly approached, his feat dragging behind him. Draco came to a halt a few feet away. Harry stared at Draco’s shoes, black and freshly polished by the look of them. Slowly Harry’s eyes crept upwards to the hem of Draco’s robes, then to his knees, to the buckle of his belt and up to the collar of his shirt. He didn’t want to look Draco in the eyes and yet he felt almost compelled to straighten his neck and do just so.

Harry’s green eyes met Draco’s pale grey. For a moment, Harry was unaware of anything but those eyes piercing him. He’d imagined that Draco would fill out and regain the weight he’d lost during their previous school year, but he almost looked thinner. His hair was shorter and neatly swept to the side, but it was matte and dull. His shoulders drooped a little, making him look almost shrunken. They stared at each other for a second that felt like an eternity, and Harry thought he saw a flash of recognition in Draco’s eyes.

“Well?” Lucius asked urgently and stepped into view.

Harry averted his eyes again.

“I … I can’t be sure”, Draco said.

Perhaps it had just been a trick of the light.

“Come on now, take a better look”, Lucius said, sounding increasingly excited despite his son’s hesitant response.

Lucius pushed Draco forward until Harry could’ve reached out and touched him. He didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head and stared at the floorboards and curled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Draco, if we give Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven”, Lucius said when Draco remained silent.

Suddenly, Harry felt a hand curl into his hair, gripping hard and yanking his head up so he was forced to look at Draco. Their faces were only inches apart. Lucius was looming above Draco’s shoulder, his face also in clear view now. Harry was taken aback by how astonishingly alike they looked with their pale blonde hair and sharp, pointed, features. But while Lucius wore an almost crazed expression of excitement, Draco looked like he rather regretted coming home for Easter. He seemed unwilling to even look at Harry and seemed almost fearful. 

“Couldn’t that be his scar, stretched out?” Lucius continued and pointed to the thin jagged line that stretched across Harry’s bloated forehead.

Draco only looked at it for a fraction of a second. “I don’t know.”

He turned and walked away, back to his seat by the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

“We better be certain”, Narcissa said, resting a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “You know what happens to those who call on the Dark Lord for nothing, Lucius.”  
Fenrir Greyback let out a growl that cut off Lucius reply. Narcissa turned her cold eyes to him and raised an eyebrow.

“What about the mudblood girl?”

The Snatchers turned the band of bound-together prisoners around, so Hermione would come into better view, making them stumble and shuffle to stay on their feet.

“Yes”, Narcissa said slowly, eyeing Hermione up and down. “I recognize her from The Prophet, and I believe we saw her in Madam Malkin’s with the Potter boy last year, wasn’t it so Draco? Isn’t that the Granger girl?”

Draco turned his unwilling eyes onto Hermione now. “Perhaps. I … maybe. I think so.” He said, turning his back to them and staring into the fire.

“Wouldn’t that make him there the boy Weasley? Arthur Weasley’s son, whatever his name is” Lucius exclaimed in near-ecstasy, pointing to Ron, who stood out with his fiery red hair.

Draco didn’t turn around to look at them again. “It could be. I don’t know”, was all he said.

Then Bellatrix burst into the room and panic finally seized hold of Harry.

 

They were led into the basement, all of them except Hermione. They could hear her screams before the heavy door was even shut behind them. Ron kept calling out for her, and only seeing Luna and Ollivander made him fall silent. Hermione’s screams continued as they slowly freed themselves from the ropes, using the rusty old nail Luna provided them with. Harry searched in desperation after a way to get out. He spilled out the contents of the pouch he’d gotten from Hagrid, waving the Phoenix wand around in a manner that would’ve been dangerous, had the wand not been entirely lifeless. The snitch Dumbledore had given him was as useless as his wand and screaming their location at the eye he thought he saw flash in the broken mirror Sirius had given him didn’t seem to do much good either.

“How did you get into my vault?” Bellatrix could be heard shouting upstairs. “Did that dirty goblin help you?”

“No”, Hermione’s cried, followed by another scream. “We’ve never met him! Not until tonight! The sword is a fake, it’s a copy! Just a copy!”

There was a thud, like a body hitting the floor and Ron cried out Hermione’s name again.

“We can verify that”, Lucius said. “Draco, go and get the goblin.”

 

Draco came into the basement with his wand pointing at them as they stood huddled against the wall. His hand was shaking, but only a little, as he approached them, and he had a determined look on his face. He grabbed Griphook by the arm and hauled him back towards the door. He paused on the last step leading to the floor above for a second.

“My father doesn’t have a wand”, he said and disappeared through the door.

Harry didn’t have time to mull over this particular piece of information, or why Draco had been so reluctant to identify them. Just as the door slammed shut behind him, Dobby appeared with a loud bang.

 

Harry and Ron snuck up the stairs and back through the dark corridor that led to the drawing room, leaving Wormtail’s body lying on the basement floor. Dean, Luna, and Ollivander had all apparated away with Dobby. They peered in through the open door and saw Bellatrix standing over the goblin, Hermione lying lifeless on the floor at her feet. Lucius was watching with an almost bored expression from his seat by the fire, while Narcissa and Draco had retreated to the other end of the room and stood silent. Greyback was standing as close to Bellatrix as he seemed to dare, his hungry eyes on Hermione.

“Is it or is it not the real sword?” Bellatrix demanded furiously.

The goblin held Gryffindor’s sword in his almost claw-like fingers, running his thumb across the blade. Harry had begged him to lie for them, but at the same time he knew that Bellatrix fear they’d been to her vault was the only thing keeping her from summoning Voldemort. Her fear that she’d somehow betrayed her masters darkest secret was the only reason they were still alive.

“It’s not. It’s a counterfeit”, Griphook finally said.

“And you’re certain?” Bellatrix breathed.

“Yes.”

Relief was written across her face. She let out a gleeful whoop and forcibly kicked the goblin in the face, making him skid towards the middle of the room where he remained motionless.

“The Dark Lord will be pleased”, she said with a grin and let her robe sleeve fall back to reveal the twisted shape of the Dark Mark.

She reached out and touched it with the tip of her forefinger and Harry’s forehead was immediately set ablaze with pain. He had to struggle to remain himself and not wander into Voldemort’s mind.

“Do you still want the mudblood, Greyback?” Bellatrix asked, turning around to the werewolf. “You may have her if you please.”

At that, Ron had had it. He burst through the door shouting _“NO!”_ at the top of his lungs. Bellatrix turned around in surprise and pointed her wand at him, but too late. Ron’s Expelliarmus spell made her wand sail into the air towards Ron, so Harry could leap and grab it. He saw Lucius moving towards them with a hand fumbling around in his robe pocket, as if he was searching for his wand, but instead Harry pointed his wand at Greyback.

“Stupify!” he called, and the werewolf fell backwards.

Lucius stopped and turned pale, but Harry barely took notice as Draco and Narcissa were firing spells at them at a rapid pace. He had to duck away behind a couch to avoid a red jet of light that almost took him in the chest. He poked his head up and shot spells back at them using Bellatrix’ wand.

“ _Stop, or I’ll kill her!”_ Bellatrix’ shrill voice broke through the commotion.

Harry turned his eyes towards her and saw her holding the barely conscious Hermione up by the hair, a silver knife pressed to her throat.

“Drop the wands or the mudblood dies”, Bellatrix said, and a vicious grin spread across her face.

As if to prove her point, she pressed the blade harder against Hermione’s skin and a trickle of blood ran down her neck.

“Alright!” Harry said and he and Ron both dropped their wands and raised their hands into the air:

Bellatrix’ smiled widened. “Good”, she said without releasing Hermione. “Draco, go and get their wands.”

Draco, his face drained of all color, strode forward. He pointed his wand at them and was quick to grab the wands and shuffle backwards, his eyes locked on Harry. The Stinging Hex had almost worn off entirely now and he saw that Draco was studying him, his fresh cuts and bruises and the dark shadow around his chin.

Harry forcibly turned back to Bellatrix. Greyback was already starting to stir behind her. She pulled Hermione forward so they were standing underneath the grand chandelier. The knife pricked Hermione’s skin again and fresh blood welled forward and Ron looked like he might lunge at Bellatrix, despite being wandless.

“Now, Cissy -” Bellatrix started, but she didn’t have time to finish the sentence.

A strange noise came from above, like metal scraping against metal. They all looked up just in time to see the crystal chandelier wobble, metal links splitting open as it keened over to one side. Then the last links holding it up gave way as well, and it came crashing to the floor in a flurry of metal and crystal. Bellatrix let go of Hermione and flung herself out of the way. Hermione and the unlucky Griphook, who hadn't stirred during the battle, didn’t have a chance to get away and were caught underneath the metal body as the crystals shattered and flew across the room. Ron ran towards them in the confusion that ensued, and Harry saw his own chance.

Draco had been standing close to Bellatrix and had only managed to stagger a few steps away from the falling chandelier. He was leaning forward on unsteady legs. Blood dripped from his face and he was trying to wipe it out of his eyes with one hand while the other clutched the collected wands. Harry leapt towards him and seized hold of the wands, trying to tug them away. Draco looked up in surprise, grip automatically tightening, and stared at Harry. Then a smile flashed across his cut and bloodied face. He loosened his grip and let Harry pull the wands out of his hand. In an act of theatricality that took Harry by surprise, Draco then flung himself backwards onto the floor as if he’d been struck. He called out in pain as he skidded across the shattered crystal on the floor. Harry stood dumbfounded for a moment, before he wheeled around and pointed all three wands at Greyback, who’d managed to get onto his feet again and was stalking toward Ron with his teeth bared.

“Stupify!” Harry cried and Greyback fell back down again. This time he didn’t get up.

Narcissa called out for her son and managed to drag him further out of harm’s way while Bellatrix cursed at her for not going after Harry or Ron.

Then there was a confused flurry. Dobby was there, and Bellatrix was shouting and suddenly Narcissa’s wand was across the room. All the while Harry was increasingly aware of Voldemort drawing closer. They only had seconds now and he could barely think through the searing pain in his scar. He tossed a wand to Ron, who was holding Hermione, and managed to haul Griphook – still clutching the sword of Gryffindor – across his shoulder. With his free hand he grabbed Dobby.

“Let’s go!” he shouted and turned on the spot.

A flurry of silver, then the heavy pressing weight of apparition that was only made worse by the goblin weighing him down. They appeared again by the seashore. The stars shone bright above them, the air tasted of salt, and Dobby had the hilt of the silver knife protruding from his chest.

Harry lowered Griphook to the ground and managed to seize hold of Dobby just before his knees gave in. The elf collapsed into Harry’s arms, thick red blood welling up around the knife hilt.

“No, Dobby, no. Don’t die, please, don’t die”, Harry said, clutching the elf tighter. His eyes were stinging with tears.

Dobby’s breathing was shallow and labored, his chest moving in quick jerks.

“Harry … Potter …” the elf whispered, his lips trembling with the effort.

Then he gave up a soft sigh and fell silent, his unseeing eyes turned skywards.

***

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice broke through the air. “Harry!”

Harry stirred. He wasn’t at Malfoy Manor. He wasn’t clutching Dobby’s body in his arms. He was at Shell Cottage, he had to remind himself, planning to break into Gringotts.

“Sorry”, he said, turning his eyes away from Draco’s wand, still clutched in his hands.

Draco’s bloody face kept appearing in his dreams. He’d felt Voldemort’s burning rage as he made his way back, furious for having been pulled away from his own search for the Elder Wand. Harry knew the residents of Malfoy Manor must’ve felt it too, when Voldemort arrived, and they stood empty handed. If Voldemort had killed Draco, would their connection let Harry see it? Could Voldemort sense that seeing the murder would bring Harry pain? Had he done it in a rage right as he returned from killing Grindelwald, when Harry had done his best to force the images out of his head and perhaps would’ve missed it, or had he gone straight to Hogwarts to collect Dumbledore’s wand and done it later, in a colder mood when Harry couldn’t break into his mind so easily? Harry didn’t want to dwell on it. Somehow, he had to believe that he’d know if Draco was dead.

“Are you thinking about it again?” Hermione said in a soft voice.

Harry’s new policy was complete honesty with his friends. He’d told them of his fears and they’d taken it better than he’d expected. Before Ron had left Harry and Hermione to continue the search for the horcruxes on their own, he’d made several snide remarks about Harry’s relationship with Draco. Harry knew that Ron wouldn’t have said such cruel things under normal circumstances, but the horcrux had brought out the worst in them, not put it there in the first place. Ron had suggested that Harry wanted Dumbledore dead, so he could become the greatest wizard alive in his stead. Of course, Harry knew that Ron didn’t believe that to be true. Other things hadn’t been so easy to dismiss; Ron calling Harry a traitor or more concerned with his own pleasure than the wellbeing of his friends had hit harder.

“I think you would’ve known if he’s dead”, Ron now chimed in, shooting Harry a look. “I mean, one of our school friends? You saw him attack my dad after all, it’s got to be the same, right?”

If they somehow survived the war, Harry would have to remind Ron he’d referred to Malfoy as one of their “school friends”. Ron had been trying to make up for his previous transgressions ever since he returned, but this might be crossing the line again, Harry thought in involuntary amusement.

“I hope so”, was all he managed.

“Right”, Hermione said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “Gringotts. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow”, Ron and Harry both agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update. I've been a little busy (also I hadn't even started writing this part when I published the last chapter, and that's just me planning poorly).


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